THE  LIBRARIES 


Bequest  of 

Frederic  Bancroft 

1860-1945 


IN  THE  ALHAMBRA,  1889 


SOME  LETTERS 

OF 

Monsignor  Louis  E.  Caillet 

AND 

August  N.  Chemidlin 

1868-1899 


Edited  by 
CLARA  HILL  LINDLEY 


Printed  for  private  circulation 

St.  P&ul,  1P22 


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e. 


COPYRIGHTED  1922 
BY  CLARA  HILL  LINOLEY 


CONTENTS 

Father  Caillet     ----------       3 

Rev.  Humiihrey  Moynihan,  S.  T.  D. 

August  Nicholas  Chemidlin    ------     29 

Clara  Hill  Lin  die  7/ 

Letters        -------.--__     39 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

In    the    Alhambra,    1889    -------     Frontispiece 

Father    Caillet      -------------  4 

Mother  of  Father  Caillet  ----------  4 

St.  Paul  Cathedral  ------------  4 

St.  Paul  in  the  'Fifties  -----------  6 

St.   Mary's  Church  ------------  22 

August  Chemidlin  and   His  Wife     -------  28 

Mary  Hill  ---------------  32 

Louis  and  James  Hill     -----------  32 

Clara  Hill  -     -           -     -----     -----     -  32 

Mrs.    Prince    --------------  38 

Mrs.  Shawe     --------------  38 

John  S.  Prince     -------------  38 

August  Chemidlin     ------------  42 

Charlotte  Prince  -------------  44 

Nettie  and  Mamie  Prince  ----------  44 

Fanny  Prince  --------------  44 

Emma  Prince  --------------  48 

John  Prince,  Jr.  -------------  48 

The  Prince  House,  Eighth  St.     -------     -  50 

James  Jerome  Hill  ------------  64 

Mrs.   Hill   ---------------  54 

The  Hill  House   (1884)     ----------  60 

Charlotte    Hill      -------------  68 

Ruth  and  Rachel  Hill  -----------  68 

L.   Caillet  ---------------  80 

Gertrude  Hill  --------------  92 

Walter  Hill     --------------  92 

Grace  Prince  --------------  92 

Alice  Shawe     --------------  92 

At  North  Oaks  Farm     -----------  94 

Monsignor  Louis  Caillet     ----------  106 

A.  Chemidlin  --------------  116 

Interior   St.    Mary's   Church,    1922   -------  118 


FATHER  CAILLET 


FATHER  CAILLET. 

Of  the  early  years  of  Louis  Eugene  Caillet 
little  is  known.  He  was  born  in  Lyons,  Novem- 
ber 21,  1832,  in  a  home  rich  in  naught  save  the  pi- 
ety that  has  given  to  the  world  the  missionaries  of 
France.  How  much  his  mother  had  to  do  with 
shaping  the  aspirations  of  his  boyhood  may  be 
gauged  from  the  very  tender  affection  he  always 
bore  her ;  the  members  of  his  household  were  famil- 
iar with  the  picture  that  throughout  his  life  held 
the  place  of  honor  on  his  desk.  For  a  priest  of 
Lyons,  chaplain  of  a  Convent,  he  also  entertain- 
ed an  enduring  regard,  the  man  who  divined  the 
possibilities  slumbering  in  the  soul  of  the  youth 
and  kindled  them  to  a  flame  of  holy  ardor  for  the 
missionary  life.  With  the  prudence  that  was  to 
characterize  him  all  his  days,  Louis  Caillet  did  not 
definitely  decide  to  enter  the  ranks  of  the  priest- 
hood mitil  he  had  knelt  at  the  feet  of  the  Cure  of 
Ars  and  heard  from  his  lips  words  that  he  regarded 
as  prophetic.  He  took  up  his  higher  studies  in  a 
seminary  at  Lyons,  and  was  quietly  pursuing  his 
course  there,  wondering  the  while  in  what  land  his 
lot  would  be  cast,  when,  one  day,  a  priest  from 
America  came  in  search  of  candidates  for  the  Dio- 
cese of  St.  Paul.     It  was  the  saintly  Father  Ra- 

[3] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

voux.  He  had  much  to  tell  the  students  of  life 
among  the  Indians,  of  the  quest  for  lonely  settlers 
in  forest  and  prairie,  of  the  beginnings  of  religion 
on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  of  the  sore  need  of 
priests  in  far-off  Minnesota.  He  told  how  he  him- 
self had  been  for  seven  years  in  the  wilds  without 
a  brother  priest ;  how  only  three  years  before  Bishop 
Cretin,  on  taking  possession  of  his  See,  was  wel- 
comed with  a  Te  Deum  in  a  little  log  chapel  that 
was  his  cathedral ;  and  how  in  his  whole  Diocese — 
in  all  the  territory  between  the  Mississippi  and  the 
Missouri,  between  the  Iowa  line  on  the  South  and 
the  British  border  on  the  North — he  had  found 
only  one  priest.  He  was  calling  for  men  willing 
to  face  toil  and  hardship,  and  Louis  Caillet  was 
one  of  those  who  answered  the  call.  With  six 
companions:  Felix  Tissot  of  Lyons,  Claude 
Robert  of  Le  Puy,  Anatole  Oster,  George  Keller. 
Francis  Hurth,  and  A^alentine  Sommereisen  of 
Strasbourg,  he  set  sail  for  America.  In  later 
years  he  used  to  tell  with  much  amusement  how 
Father  Ravoux  laid  down  a  stringent  code  of  rules 
and  regulations  for  his  charges,  and  how  his  plan 
to  establish  a  miniature  seminary  on  the  high  seas 
was  sadly  upset  by  the  innocent  pranks  of  two  of 
the  younger  "seminarians"  bent  on  whiling  away 
the  tedium  of  a  voyage  extending  over  forty-five 
days. 

On  the  afternoon  of  Friday,  June  16,  1854,  the 
future  missionaries  landed  on  the  wharves  of  St. 

[  4  ] 


FATHER  LOUIS  CAILLET 
Soon    offer   /m',<    Ordination 


MOTHER  OF  FATHER  CAH^LET 


CATHEDRAL  OF  SALNT  PAUL  OX  SLXTH  AND  WABASHA  STREETS 

Built   h\j  Bishop  Cretin 


FATHER  CAILLET 

Paul.  On  reaching  the  Cathedral  they  found 
Bishop  Cretin  teaching  catecliism.  The  Bishop 
lost  no  time  in  setting  them  at  work.  Their  first 
task  was  to  prepare  for  the  procession  of  the  Bles- 
sed Sacrament  around  the  Cathedral  block  on  the 
following  Sunday,  for  it  was  the  Sunday  within 
the  octave  of  Corpus  Christi. 

A  frontier  town  in  the  Northwest  in  1854  was 
full  of  strange  interest  for  the  young  men  fresh 
from  France.  Only  a  few  years  before,  the  spot 
on  which  St.  Paul  stood  was  a  wilderness.  The 
little  log  chapel  that  Father  Galtier  had  built  in 
1840,  the  "basilica,"  as  he  called  it,  "so  poor  that 
it  recalled  the  stable  of  Bethlehem,"  told  them  how 
close  they  still  were  to  the  crude  beginning  of 
things.  And  yet,  the  air  was  full  of  forecasts  of  a 
wonderful  future  for  the  town.  Every  speech  in 
those  days  was  adorned  with  a  few  well-worn  lines 
of  Whittier: 

I  hear  the  tread  of  pioneers 

Of  nations  j^et  to  be — 

The  first  low  wash  of  waves,  where  soon 

Shall  roll  a  human  sea. 

At  no  distant  date  the  wilderness  would  blossom 
like  the  rose;  the  Indian  lodges  around  the  town 
would  disappear;  Atlantic  and  Pacific  would  be 
bound  by  long  slender  lines  of  steel;  New  Orleans 
would  be  brought  within  reach  of  St.  Anthony. 
These  were  the  dreams  of  the  settlers  of  the  early 
fifties.    And,  indeed,  the  fame  of  Minnesota,  of  its 

[  5  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

prairies  and  their  mold  of  a  thousand  years,  of  its 
pineries  and  primeval  forests,  of  its  countless  lakes 
and  broad-bosomed  rivers,  was  spreading  far  and 
wide,  and  from  East  and  South  families  were  pour- 
ing in  to  seek  their  fortune  in  the  land  of  promise. 
One  day  the  Democrat  would  announce  that  "six 
steamboats  arrived  yesterday  and  landed  about  six 
hundred  passengers."  Another  day  the  Minnesota 
Pioneer  would  boast  that  St.  Paul  was  fast  donning 
the  aspect  of  a  city:  "After  dark  the  lights  gleam 
from  the  dwellings  in  multitudinous  twinklings  like 
fire-flies  in  a  meadow."  But  the  pages  that  paint- 
ed such  roseate  pictures  of  St.  Paul  and  augured 
such  a  golden  future  for  it,  would  also  record  a 
skirmish  between  Sioux  and  Chippewas,  ancient 
enemies,  in  one  of  its  principal  streets. 

Three  years  of  study  and  preparation  for  the 
sacred  ministry  were  passed  in  the  Cathedral  Res- 
idence. It  will  be  recalled  that  the  Cathedral  of 
that  day  was  a  composite  building  of  three  stories. 
On  the  first  floor  were  a  parlor,  the  parish  library, 
a  dining-room,  a  kitchen,  and  a  class  room.  The 
second  story  was  given  over  to  the  church.  On 
the  third  story  were  rooms  for  the  Bishop  and  the 
priests,  the  seminarians'  dormitory,  study  hall,  and 
class  rooms.  Louis  Caillet  received  his  initiation 
into  the  simple  ways  of  missionary  life  when  he 
saw  Bishop  Cretin  sweeping  his  own  room,  making 
his  bed,  chopping  wood,  working  in  the  garden, 
and  busy  with  many  other  occupations  strangely 

[  6  ] 


en 


X 

H 


< 

en 


FATHER  CAILLET 

out  of  keeping  with  those  of  an  episcopal  palace 
in  France.  The  seminarians,  too,  were  busy  with 
a  variety  of  duties  from  early  morning,  when  the 
Bishop  roused  one  of  them  to  serve  his  Mass,  cel- 
ebrated punctually  at  five  o'clock,  until  they  re- 
tired at  night.  Now  and  again,  one  or  other  of 
them  accompanied  the  Bishop  on  his  trips  through 
the  Diocese,  sharing  the  fatigue  of  the  rude  roads 
and  the  discomfort  of  log  houses.  The  close  of 
Bishop  Cretin's  life  was  clouded  with  much  suffer- 
ing. During  his  last  long  illness  Louis  Caillet 
and  Felix  Tissot  were  in  constant  attendance  on 
him,  watching  by  his  bed-side,  doing  all  that  affec- 
tion and  fidelity  could  do  to  soothe  his  pain  and 
cheer  his  lonely  hours.  Father  Caillet  always  re- 
tained a  vivid  recollection  of  the  Bishop's  resigna- 
tion during  the  dreary  months  of  his  suffering. 
"As  I  cannot  work,"  the  Bishop  would  say,  "I  at 
least  ought  to  offer  my  pains  to  God  for  the  faith- 
ful and  for  all."  His  efforts,  too,  to  continue  his 
work  in  spite  of  constant  distress  and  failing 
strength  were  a  pathetic  memory  with  those  who 
were  with  him  to  the  end. 

Bishop  Cretin  died  on  the  22nd  of  February, 
1857.  Bishop  Grace  was  not  to  succeed  him  until 
two  years  later.  For  this  reason  Louis  Caillet 
was  ordained  priest  by  Bishop  Smith,  coadjutor 
Bishop  of  Dubuque,  on  August  21,  1857.  He 
was  assigned  to  the  Cathedral,  and  now  and  then 
tasted  the  hardships  of  missionary  life  on  the  long 

[  7  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

trips  he  made  among  the  scattered  hamlets  on  the 
prairie.  As  pastor  of  the  Cathedral  he  ministered 
quietly  and  steadily  to  the  spiritual  needs  of  his 
growing  congregation.  In  1865  he  was  commis- 
sioned by  Bishop  Grace  to  organize  a  new  parish 
to  be  known  as  St.  Mary's.  On  Pentecost  Sun- 
day of  the  following  year  the  corner-stone  of  the 
new  Church  was  laid  with  much  ceremony.  It 
was  a  beautiful  afternoon  towards  the  end  of  May, 
and  all  St.  Paul  turned  out  for  the  occasion.  The 
Catholic  societies  of  the  Cathedral  and  Assump- 
tion parishes,  the  children  who  had  received  the 
sacrament  of  Confirmation  in  the  morning,  and 
who  now  marched  singing  Canticles  in  honor  of 
the  Blessed  Virgin,  the  acolytes  in  their  scarlet 
soutanes  and  spotless  surplices  (among  them  was 
a  little  boy  who  was  to  be  the  first  Bishop  of  North 
Dakota,  John  Shanley),  the  nuns  in  their  somber 
garb,  the  vested  priests,  and  the  Bishop  with  his 
guard  of  honor — this  Catholic  outpouring  fifty- 
six  years  ago  was  an  unwonted  spectacle  in  a 
frontier  town,  and  cheered  the  hearts  of  the  Cath- 
olic people  of  St.  Paul.  The  parchment  deposit- 
ed in  the  corner-stone  will  come  to  light  again, 
when  the  church  so  auspiciously  fomided  will  be 
regretfully  dismantled.  It  told  how,  on  May 
20th,  in  the  year  of  our  Lord  1866,  the  twentieth 
of  the  Pontificate  of  Pius  IX,  the  seventh  of  the 
episcopacy  of  Thomas  Langdon  Grace,  Andrew 
Johnson  being  President  of  the  United   States, 

[  8  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

William  R.  Marshall  Governor  of  the  State  of 
Minnesota,  and  John  S.  Prince  Mayor  of  the  City 
of  St.  Paul,  the  corner-stone  of  St.  Mary's  was 
solemnly  laid  by  the  Bishop  of  the  Diocese,  at- 
tended by  the  clergy  of  the  city  and  a  large  con- 
course of  the  faithful.  A  sermon  full  of  miction 
and  eloquence  preached  by  Bishop  Grace  brought 
to  a  close  a  day  that  always  lived  in  the  memory 
of  Father  Caillet. 

Building  a  church  in  the  year  after  the  war 
was  no  light  task.  Father  Caillet  never  forgot 
the  generous  co-operation  given  to  him  by  five 
members  of  the  parish — Messrs.  John  S.  Prince, 
Philip  McQuillan,  Bruno  Beaupre,  Patrick  H. 
Kelly  and  Patrick  Nash.  Neither  did  he  ever  for- 
get the  sacrifices  made  by  hundreds  of  his  congre- 
gation, who  were  always  so  ready  with  a  moiety 
of  their  scanty  incomes.  On  July  28,  1867,  to  the 
great  joy  of  priest  and  people,  St.  Mary's  was 
dedicated.  Father  Oster,  in  the  absence  of  Bish- 
op Grace,  officiated.  The  sermon  was  preached 
by  Father  Ireland,  who  took  for  his  text  the  words 
"i  am  the  Way,  the  Truth,  and  the  Life."  Father 
Ireland  was,  as  Archbishop,  to  preach  the  sermon 
at  the  Silver  Jubilee  of  St.  Mary's,  and  again  at 
its  Golden  Jubilee. 

For  six  and  fifty  years  St.  Mary's  was  destined 
to  stand,  a  House  of  God,  diffusing  the  blessings 
and  consolations  of  religion  to  thousands  of  souls 
coming  to  seek  what  only  the  Catholic  Church  can 

[  9  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

give,  the  truths  and  graces  that  Christ  committed 
to  the  dispensing  hands  of  His  priesthood.     In 
the    words    of    Archbishop    Ireland,    it    was    the 
"House  of  God  and  the    Gate    of   Heaven,    pro- 
claiming to  all  the  real  purpose  of  life,  and  point- 
ing out  to  the  present  generation  the  blessed  re- 
ward held  out  to  those  who  serve  God  faithfully." 
And  its  people  loved  it  as  the  House  of  God.  They 
were  ever  adding  some  new  touch  of  loveliness  to 
it,  adorning  it  with  tabernacle  and  font,  with  pic- 
tures   and    candelabra    and    exquisite     vestments, 
sparing    nothing    that    could    contribute   to   the 
beauty  of  the  sanctuary  and  the  dignity  of  its  serv- 
ices.    Father    Caillet's    joy    was    full    when,    on 
March  22,  1882,  a  few  friends  subscribed  the  sum 
of  twelve  thousand  dollars  "to  lift  from  the  church 
the  incumbrance  which  had  been  a  source  of  anxi- 
ety to  him;"  and  his  happiness  was  no  less  keen 
than  that  of  the  little  group  of  his  parishioners  who 
assembled  in  Mr.  James  J.  Hill's  residence  that 
March  evening   to   meet   him   and   announce   the 
good  news  to  him.       Piety  reigned  in  the  parish, 
and  the  spirit  of  charity  made  of  the  congregation 
one  great  family  in  which  help  was  always  ready 
and  the  sorrow  of  one   was  the  sorrow  of  many. 
The  life  of  a  parish  finds  expression  in  its  societies, 
which  are  simply  so  many  organized  systems  of  de- 
votion and  charity;  it  is  significant  and  interest- 
ing to  recall  the  number  of  church  societies  called 
into  being  by  the  zeal  of  St.  Mary's  pastor:     the 

[  10  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

Rosary  Society,  the  Young  Ladies'  Sodality,  the 
Holy  Angels'  Sodality,  the  Society  of  the  Holy 
Name,  Knights  of  the  Blessed  Virgin,  the  St.  Vin- 
cent de  Paul  Society,  the  Perpetual  Adoration  So- 
ciety, the  League  of  the  Sacred  Heart,  Ladies' 
Aid  Society,  Altar  Society,  Literary  and  Reading 
Circle.  St.  Mary's  Home  for  friendless  girls  was 
established  in  1884,  and  was  at  first  managed  by 
ladies  of  the  parish  under  the  following  Board  of 
Directors:  Mmes.  J.  J.  Hill,  P.  F.  McQuillan,  J. 
T.  Beaumont,  J.  McCauley,  P.  H.  Kelly,  H. 
Bamford,  F.  F.  Mclver,  P.  R.  L.  Hardenbergh, 
J.  H.  Allen,  B.  Beaupre,  F.  Seymour,  Ahce 
Goodrich,  D.  Ryan,  A.  McDonald.  It  was  sub- 
sequently committed  to  the  charge  of  the  Ladies 
of  the  Immaculate  Heart  of  Mary.  For  several 
years  the  Orphan  Asylum,  the  first  institution  of 
the  kind  in  the  Northwest,  although  not  founded 
by  Father  Caillet,  depended  on  him  for  the  funds 
that  maintained  it. 

Mention  should  be  made  of  an  organization  which 
was  known  wherever  the  name  of  St.  Mary's  was 
mentioned — St.  Mary's  choir.  It  dates  back  to  the 
earliest  days  of  the  church.  Under  the  directorship, 
first,  of  Mrs.  A.  M.  Shawe,  and,  subsequently,  of 
Miss  Elsie  Shawe,  musicians  of  a  high  order  and 
accomplished  organists,  by  its  exquisite  rendering 
of  ecclesiastical  music  and  fidelity  to  its  best  tradi- 
tions, it  contributed  greatly  to  the  sense  of  piety 
that  always  marked  the    services   of    St.    Mary's. 

[ "  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

Much  of  the  marvelous  record  of  this  choir  was  due 
to  the  interest  which  Father  Caillet  always  mani- 
fested in  it  as  an  organization  and  in  its  individual 
members. 

The  completion  of  the  church  left  Father  Cail- 
let's  hands  free  for  a  work  which  he  deemed  the 
most  fruitful  of  his  life — the  building  of  St.  Mary's 
school.  To  this  task  he  bent  all  his  energies  and  in 
1880  a  structure  of  ample  and  dignified  proportions, 
spacious  and  handsome,  well  appointed  in  every 
detail,  faced  the  church,  housing  the  children  who 
thronged  to  it  from  all  sides.  His  parish  he  now 
regarded  as  fully  equipped:  for  his  own  comfort 
he  had  no  thought,  and  so  the  little  frame  house 
adjoining  the  church  continued  to  serve  as  his  res- 
idence as  long  as  he  was  pastor  of  St.  Mary's. 

The  school  was  the  object  of  his  special  pride 
and  solicitude.  It  was  characteristic  of  the  man 
that  the  young  people  who  went  out  from  its  halls 
were  not  lost  to  view  the  day  they  received  their 
diplomas.  He  kept  steadily  in  touch  with  them, 
following  them  with  helpful  interest,  enlisting  the 
good  will  of  men  of  affairs  in  their  behalf,  and  en- 
couraging their  laudable  ambition  in  a  practical 
way.  The  graduates  of  St.  Mary's  won  their  way 
to  the  confidence  of  merchants  and  bankers.  For 
many  men  now  holding  posts  of  trust  and  emolu- 
ment in  the  Northwest  the  reputation  of  St.  Mary's 
school  first  opened  the  door  of  opportunity. 

[   12   ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

And  this  was  not  the  last  service  that  Father 
Caillet  rendered  to  the  cause  of  education.  The 
estabhshment  of  a  convent  of  the  Visitation  nuns 
was  for  some  years  among  his  most  cherished  hopes. 
In  1872,  with  the  authorization  of  Bishop  Grace, 
he  journeyed  to  St.  Louis  to  ask  for  a  foimdation 
from  the  Motherhouse  in  that  city.  He  went  back 
in  1873  to  renew  the  request,  and  in  May  of  that 
year,  two  sisters.  Mother  M.  Vincentia  Marotte 
and  Sister  Xavier  Wickham,  visited  St.  Paul,  re- 
maining for  some  days  under  the  hospitable  roof  of 
Colonel  J.  S.  Prince  while  plans  for  the  coming  of 
a  Visitandine  colony  were  being  completed.  Four 
trusted  friends  of  Father  Caillet — Messrs.  J.  S. 
Prince,  P.  J.  McQuillan,  B.  Beaupre,  and  P.  H. 
Kelly — took  an  active  interest  in  the  new  enter- 
prise, and  were  instrumental  in  a  large  way  in 
making  the  establishment  of  the  Convent  feasible. 
On  August  12,  1873,  six  sisters,  travelling  under 
Father  Caillet's  care,  arrived  in  St.  Paul,  and 
found  a  pleasant  home  awaiting  them  on  Somer- 
set Street.  The  first  Mass  was  celebrated  in  their 
oratory  on  the  Feast  of  the  Assumption,  when  en- 
closure was  formally  established.  Father  Caillet's 
wisdom  has  been  richly  vindicated.  The  history  of 
the  Visitation  Community — the  erection  of  the 
Convent  at  the  corner  of  Robert  Street  and  Uni- 
versity Avenue,  and  the  erection  of  the  splendid 
Convents  in  which  the  nuns  now  carry  on  their 
work,  the  contribution  of  the  Community  to  Cath- 

[   13  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

olic  life  in  Minnesota,  the  impress  stamped  upon 
the  young  women  who  with  the  choicest  graces  of 
culture  imbibed  the  spirit  of  enlightened  piety  that 
the  Visitandines  impart — all  this  is  familiar  to 
those  who  are  acquainted  with  the  forces  diffusing 
the  blessings  of  education  and  religion  in  the 
Northwest  during  the  past  forty  years.  Father 
Caillet  would  have  rejoiced  to  see  the  stately  Con- 
vent that  is  today  the  home  of  the  nuns — the  gift  of 
one  of  tlieir  own  alumnae — but  he  did  not  live  to 
see  this  happy  fruition  of  his  hopes.  He  watched 
to  the  last  over  the  Convent,  faithful  guardian, 
guide,  and  friend  of  the  Community  for  whose 
coming  he  had  been  so  solicitous. 

Father  Caillet  was  the  ideal  parish  priest,  the 
true  pastor  of  souls.  He  could  lay  no  claim  to 
graces  of  oratory,  in  fact  he  never  attained  a  facile 
command  of  English,  and  yet,  his  people  never 
tired  of  his  simple,  solid  instructions,  setting  forth 
the  teaching  of  the  Church  and  the  duties  of  her 
children  with  a  clearness  and  persuasiveness  that 
charmed  alike  the  humblest  and  the  most  cultured 
of  his  congregation.  The  piety  and  sincerity  of  a 
priestly  soul  touched  his  words  with  simple  elo- 
quence— behind  the  M'^ords  he  spoke  was  the  trans- 
parent goodness  of  the  life  he  lived.  As  a  spirit- 
ual guide  he  reminded  one  somewhat  of  the  Cure 
of  Ars,  with  whose  spirit  he  seemed  to  have  been 
penetrated.  There  is  a  sanity  in  saintliness  that 
pierces  unerringly  to  the  heart  of  a  problem.    This 

[   14  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

gift  Father  Caillet  possessed,  and  with  it  a  rare  in- 
sight into  character.  Many  a  troubled  soul  went 
out  from  St.  Mary's,  carrying  the  peace  and  sure- 
ness  that  come  from  contact  with  one  who  dwells 
habitually  in  another  world. 

He  was  the  children's  friend  and  father. 
Between  child  and  priest  exists  one  of  the  beauti- 
ful bonds  of  life.  The  priest  looks  at  the  child  with 
some  of  the  love  of  Him  who  would  have  the  little 
ones  come  unto  Him,  and  the  child  turns  instinc- 
tively to  the  priest  with  trust  and  reverence.  Father 
Caillet  knew  and  loved  children.  He  was  interest- 
ed in  them,  in  all  their  doings  and  all  their  ways. 
The  school,  which  he  built  on  a  splendid  scale  and 
at  the  cost  of  much  sacrifice,  was,  as  we  have  said, 
the  special  object  of  his  predilection.  There  he 
loved  to  tarry  among  the  young  folk,  never  growing 
weary  of  endless  catechism,  lighting  up  lessons 
with  stories  and  illustrations  the  children  could  not 
forget.  The  privilege  of  preparing  them  for  First 
Communion  he  jealously  guarded  for  himself . 
When  separated  from  them,  they  were  ever  in  his 
thoughts.  His  letters  had  messages  for  them — 
messages  that  show  how  well  he  understood  them. 
When  lying  ill  at  Lyons  he  fancied  them  playing 
under  the  window,  or  singing  hymns  to  the  Mother 
of  the  Lord  around  her  statue  half-hidden  in  the 
flowers  of  the  garden.  As  the  children  of  St. 
Mary's  grew  to  manhood  and  womanhood  under 
his  fostering  hands,  they  grew  in  reverence  and  af- 

[   15  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

lection  for  their  pastor  and  for  the  faith  he  so 
sweetly  taught  them. 

If  Father  Caillet  is  lovingly  remembered  by 
many  who  knew  him  as  a  priest  and  were  trained 
in  religion  by  him,  he  is  still  more  affectionately 
remembered  by  the  few  who  knew  him  also  as  a 
friend.  For  only  a  few  knew  him  as  he  really  was 
— the  unsuspected  fund  of  affection,  the  considera- 
tion for  others  that  found  expression  in  many 
touching,  thoughtful  ways,  the  gentle  shrewdness 
that  was  never  cynical  and  never  credulous,  the 
judicious  mind  that  begot  confidence,  the  kindly 
humor  that  flashed  out  so  suddenly  and  so  merrily, 
the  quiet  fearlessness  that  would  hold  calmly 
against  pressure  like  a  rock  in  a  stream,  the  un- 
changing simplicity  of  soul,  and,  over  all,  and  suf- 
fusing all,  the  priestly  dignity  of  a  man  for  whom 
the  thought  of  things  unseen  was  never  far  away. 
It  is  not  surprising  that  those  who  enjoyed  his 
friendship  turned  to  him  in  all  the  affairs  of  life 
with  a  trust  that  knew  no  doubt  and  no  limitations. 

How  loyal  he  could  be  to  those  whom  he  liked 
and  trusted  his  friendship  Avith  Mr.  Chemidlin,  ex- 
tending over  forty  years,  bore  wistful  testimony. 
They  were  very  unlike,  these  two  men.  Their 
paths  lay  far  apart.  Their  thoughts  ran  in  differ- 
ent channels.  The  sprightly  temperament  of  the 
layman  was  sensitive  to  much  for  which  the  priest 
had  little  perception.  And  yet,  they  were  drawn 
together  in  a  placid  companionship  that  grew  in 

[   16  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

gentle  thought  fulness  as  the  years  passed  by.  The 
letters  bring  out  the  contrast  of  temperament  and 
also  the  note  of  simple  intimacy  that  pervaded  their 
friendship.  Mr.  Chemidlin  never  lets  a  chance 
pass  to  tease  Father  Caillet.  Father  Caillet  will 
not  make  the  trip  to  the  Holy  Land,  much  as  he 
covets  it,  because  Mr.  Chemidlin  is  debarred  by 
illness  from  sharing  the  pleasure  of  it  with  him. 
Mr.  Chemidlin's  letter  to  Mrs.  Hill  on  the  death  of 
his  friend  is  the  cry  of  a  desolate  heart. 

It  is  as  pastor  of  St.  Mary's  that  Father  Caillet 
is  chiefly  remembered.  With  St.  Mary's  his  life 
was  bound  up.  To  it  and  to  its  flock  he  gave  the 
best  years  of  his  life  without  stint,  without  reserve. 
When  illness  forced  him  to  seek  health  in  a  less 
rigorous  climate,  his  thoughts  were  with  his  flock 
beyond  the  sea.  Wherever  he  was,  at  Lyons  or 
Madrid  or  Rome,  at  Carthage  or  Tunis  or  in  the 
Sahara,  "wandering  from  enchantment  to  enchant- 
ment," his  heart  was  with  St.  Mary's.  He  would 
not  exchange  his  humble  church  and  choir  for  the 
finest  church  in  Paris.  The  church  he  built  was 
dear  to  him,  and  dearer  still  the  spiritual  edifice 
that  through  his  priestly  zeal  God  deigned  to 
build  up  in  the  hearts  of  the  people  to  whom  he 
ministered  so  faithfully. 

The  celebration  of  the  Silver  Jubilee  of  St. 
Mary's,  August  7,  1892,  was  the  occasion  of  a  cere- 
mony which  greatly  gratified  all  who  knew  Father 
Caillet.     Archbishop    Ireland    had   just   returned 

[  '-  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

from  Rome,  bringing  with  him  the  Brief  that 
raised  the  pastor  of  St.  Mary's  to  the  rank  of  Do- 
mestic Prelate.  All  the  Bishops  af  the  Province 
of  St.  Paul  were  present  to  do  honor  to  their  old 
friend.  Archbishop  Ireland  preached  the  sermon 
and  invested  Father  Caillet  with  the  purple  of  his 
new  dignity.  "I  do  not  speak  to  praise  or  flatter 
with  sweet  words,"  said  the  Archbishop,  "I  speak 
to  render  testimony  to  truth;  I  speak  to  edify. 
True  merit  does  not  seek  to  be  known;  but  it  is 
our  duty  to  know  it  and  value  it.  We  are  assem- 
bled this  morning  to  honor  a  deserving  priest.  He 
who  was  pastor  of  St.  Mary's  Church  twenty-five 
years  ago  is  the  pastor  today.  For  ten  years  pre- 
viously he  had  labored  in  St.  Paul  as  pastor  of  the 
Cathedral.  During  his  thirty-five  years  of  minis- 
terial life  he  has  been  the  faithful,  the  irreproach- 
able, the  self-denying,  the  zealous  priest.  How 
much  good  he  has  accomplished !  How  many  souls 
brought  nearer  to  God!  Is  this  as  nothing?  No 
wonder  that  the  Sovereign  Pontiff,  hearing  of  this 
unstained  and  zealous  ministry,  desired  to  mark  it 
as  a  lesson  to  others  by  sending  to  your  pastor  the 
Brief  which  has  been  sent  to  you,  and  which  con- 
stitutes him  prelate  of  the  Roman  Court.  For 
centuries  it  has  been  the  custom  of  the  Popes  to 
select  as  members  of  their  Court  distinguished  and 
meritorious  ecclesiastics  throughout  the  world. 
When  in  Rome  they  enjoy  special  honors  and  priv- 
ileges befitting  their  propinquity  to  the  person  of 

[  18  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

the  Pontiff.  It  is  my  privilege  to  represent  this 
morning  Leo  XIII  in  conferring  this  dignity  on 
Monsignor  Caillet.  I  rejoice  in  doing  it;  I  have 
known  him  for  many  years.  I  have  toiled  at  his 
side  as  fellow-priest;  when  made  a  Bishop  I  have 
made  use  of  his  wise  and  discreet  counsel  at  all 
times  and  in  all  circumstances.  I  have  found  him 
to  be  the  worthy  ecclesiastic.  His  parishioners 
have  known  him  well,  and  with  me  they  tender  him 
their  felicitations.  May  he  be  with  us  for  many 
years  to  come,  to  serve  the  cause  of  Christ  and  edi- 
fy his  people  and  his  fellow-priests." 

In  the  autumn  of  1893  Father  Caillet  left  his 
beloved  St.  Mary's.  Only  more  important  duties 
and  responsibilities  could  reconcile  him  to  the  part- 
ing. But  he  was  now  Vicar-General,  and  in  the 
course  of  another  year  he  was  to  take  charge  of 
the  St.  Paul  Seminary.  It  was  eminently  fitting 
that  he  should  be  the  first  Rector  of  the  Seminary. 
This  was  made  clear  in  a  memorable  manner  at 
the  dedication  of  the  Seminary,  September  4,  1895. 
The  Apostolic  Delegate,  Archbishop  Satolli,  a 
large  number  of  Archbishops  and  Bishops,  hun- 
dreds of  priests,  representatives  of  Catholic  seats 
of  learning,  and  a  great  gathering  of  men  eminent 
in  civic  walks  of  life  came  to  signalize  by  their 
presence  the  formal  dedication  and  presentation  of 
an  institution  that  M'as  to  inaugurate  a  new  era  in 
the  history  of  the  Church  in  the  Northwest.  Mass 
had  been  celebrated  by  Archbishop  Satolli  under 

[  19  1 


FATHER  CAILLET 

the  open  sky  in  the  presence  of  a  vast  assemblage; 
the  sermon  had  been  preached  by  Dr.  O'Gorman, 
setting  forth  in  glowing  accents  the  mission  of  a 
seminary  of  the  priesthood;  one  by  one  the  build- 
ings on  the  Campus  had  been  blessed  and  dedicated, 
and  evening  had  come,  the  moment  of  the  closing 
act — the  founder's  formal  presentation  of  the  in- 
stitution to  the  Diocese  of  St.  Paul.  Archbishop 
Ireland,  looking  into  the  future  sketched  with 
masterly  sweep  the  service  the  St.  Paul  Seminary 
was  destined  to  render  to  Church  and  Country; 
professors  voiced  the  gratitude  of  priests  and  stu- 
dents to  the  illustrious  founder  of  their  seminary; 
the  Apostolic  Delegate,  as  representative  of  the 
Sovereign  Pontiff,  emphasized  the  significance  of 
the  great  gift  made  "to  a  Church  that  can  die  from 
earth  only  with  the  race."  And  then  Mr.  Hill  rose 
to  speak.  Briefly  and  simply  he  told  the  reasons 
that  animated  him  in  founding  the  seminary.  "For 
nearly  thirty  years,"  he  said,  "I  have  lived  in  a 
Roman  Catholic  household  and  daily  have  had  be- 
fore me  the  earnest  devotion,  watchful  care,  and 
Christian  example  of  a  Roman  Catholic  wife,  of 
whom  it  may  be  said,  Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart 
for  they  shall  see  God,  and  on  whose  behalf  to-night 
I  desire  to  present  and  turn  over  to  the  illustrious 
Archbishop  of  this  Diocese  the  seminary  and  its 
endowment  as  provided  in  the  deeds  and  articles  of 
trust  covering  the  same."  He  had  noted,  too,  that 
the  Catholic  people  had  little  else  than  their  faith 

[  20   ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

in  God  and  the  aid  of  their  priests.  He  had  also 
seen  the  work  done  by  Archbishop  Ireland  in 
spreading  throughout  the  country  the  light  of  re- 
ligion, and,  seeing  it,  he  felt  called  upon  to  devote 
a  portion  of  the  world's  goods  with  which  he  had 
been  blessed  to  educating  for  the  priesthood  men 
who  would  be  able  to  preach  down  the  spirit  of 
unbelief,  and  to  stand  as  shining  lights  along  the 
pathway  that  leads  to  heaven.  This  explanation 
he  prefaced  with  a  tribute  to  Father  Caillet  which 
must  be  given  in  Mr.  Hill's  own  words:  "I  cannot 
let  this  occasion  pass  without  a  word  in  regard  to 
one  who  has  most  to  do  with  the  early  consideration 
of  and  conclusions  which  ultimately  led  to  the 
founding  of  this  institution.  To  most  of  you  I 
need  hardly  mention  the  name  of  Monsignor  Louis 
Caillet,  whose  long  life  as  a  Catholic  priest  has  been 
spent  among  you,  and  whose  devotion  to  duty, 
whose  broad  Christian  charity  and  unswerving  zeal 
for  the  spiritual  welfare  and  upright  life  of  both 
old  and  young  have  endeared  him  in  an  unusual 
degree  to  the  hearts  of  the  people  of  St.  Paul,  both 
within  and  without  the  Church  which  he  has  so 
dearly  loved  and  so  faithfully  served.  Over  forty 
years  of  active  service  have  left  him  somewhat  im- 
paired in  health,  but  with  a  spirit  as  patient  and 
devoted  as  when  he  first  came  among  you  so  many 
years  ago.  I  may  say  truthfully  that  had  it  not 
been  for  my  intimate  knowledge  of  and  admiration 
for  his  character  as  a  Christian  pastor  and  a  per- 

[  21   ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

sonal  friend,  it  is  very  probable  I  would  never  have 
thought  of  assuming  the  responsibility  for  the  work 
which  has  been  dedicated  today."  Thus  was  the 
simple  priest  who  had  lived  and  worked  so  long  and 
so  unobtrusively  suddenly  siunmoned  again  out  of 
the  obscurity  he  loved  by  the  voice  of  a  man  whose 
grandeur  of  vision  and  magnificence  of  achievement 
lent  distinction  to  every  word  of  praise  he  uttered. 
It  was  a  dramatic  setting  for  a  tribute,  and  the 
audience — the  most  notable  ever  gathered  in  re- 
sponse to  the  invitation  of  the  Church  in  the  North- 
west— was  quick  to  recognize  the  justice  and  grace- 
fulness of  it  all. 

As  Rector  of  the  Seminary,  Father  Caillet's  very 
presence  among  the  students  was  an  exalting  in- 
fluence. His  gentle  gravity,  his  priestly  piety,  his 
mellow  wisdom  silently  made  themselves  felt  in  the 
lives  of  the  young  men  entrusted  to  his  paternal 
care.  For  three  years  he  lived  among  his  priests 
and  students,  loved  and  revered  by  all,  years  ap- 
parently free  from  heavy  care,  for  he  let  no  one 
know  what  he  knew  too  well — that  his  days  were 
rapidly  coming  to  a  close.  Few  things  lend  so 
much  dignity  to  life  as  the  calm  bearing  of  a  man 
who  is  aware  that  the  end  is  near,  and  who  quietly 
prepares  to  meet  death  with  the  simple  trust  in  God 
that  he  has  brought  to  all  his  work  and  tasks.  So 
was  it  with  Father  Caillet.  He  died  as  he  lived.  He 
passed  to  his  reward  on  Sunday  afternoon,  No- 
vember 28,  1897.     Ever  since  he  left  St.  Mary's  he 

[22  ] 


SAINT  MARY'S  CHURCH 


FATHER  CAILLET 

had  gone  back  again  and  again  to  offer  the  Holy 
Sacrifice  at  the  altar  so  full  of  sweet  memories  for 
him,  and  to  speak  from  the  familiar  pulpit  to  the 
flock  he  knew  and  loved  so  well.  It  was  his  wish 
that  he  should  be  buried  from  St.  Mary's — "it 
is  my  desire  that  I  be  buried  from  St.  Mary's 
Church,  the  Church  I  loved  so  well  and  will  love 
to  the  last."  And  back  to  the  scene  of  his  hfe's 
labors  his  mortal  remains  were  borne  by  priests  and 
seminarians  to  rest  before  the  altar  for  the  last  time. 
There  on  December  1st,  the  last  obsequies  were 
performed  in  the  midst  of  Bishops,  priests,  and 
people,  who  followed  him  to  the  grave  with  tears 
and  prayers.  The  Mass  was  celebrated  by  Bishop 
Shanley.  The  sermon  was  preached  by  Arch- 
bishop Ireland,  who  spoke  of  Father  Caillet,  as 
"one  who  was  above  all  things  a  priest,"  and  closed 
a  moving  discourse  with  these  farewell  words: 
"Father  Caillet,  we  bid  you  good-bye.  Your  mem- 
ory will  long  be  with  us.  For  years  and  years  St. 
Mary's  Church  in  every  stone  of  its  walls  will  speak 
of  your  devotion  to  duty,  of  your  irreproachable 
life;  and  for  years  and  years  thousands  who  have 
been  blessed  by  your  ministry,  who  have  knelt  be- 
fore you  in  confession  of  their  sins,  who  have  re- 
ceived from  your  hands  the  Body  of  Christ,  who 
have  listened  to  words  of  comfort  from  your  lips, 
who  have  heard  of  the  virtues  of  your  priestly  life, 
will  speak  of  you.  For  years  and  years  in  St.  Paul, 
in  the  Northwest  the  name  of  Father  Caillet  will 

[  23  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

be  a  benediction  among  men,  and  men  will  be  better 
because  he  has  hved  among  us." 

Father  Caillet's  will  was  what  might  have  been 
expected  of  him.  To  his  life-long  friend  Mr.  Che- 
midlin  he  left  two  thousand  dollars.  To  St.  Mary's 
School  he  bequeathed  the  sum  of  ten  thousand  dol- 
lars, the  modest  savings  of  a  life  time.  To  the  St. 
Paul  Seminary  he  gave  his  books,  and  to  Miss 
Annabel  McQuillan,  as  a  token  of  affection  and 
esteem  to  her  and  of  gratitude  and  friendship  to 
her  dear  father  and  mother,  he  gave  the  picture  of 
the  Madonna  painted  by  Gabriel  Max  and  present- 
ed to  him  by  his  "kind  and  dear  friend,"  Mr.  James 
J.  HiU. 

The  story  of  Father  Caillet  is  not  starred  with 
deeds  that  win  renown  and  entitle  a  man  to  a  page 
in  the  annals  of  Church  or  State.  It  is  the  story 
of  one  who  at  the  Master's  bidding  left  home  and 
friends  in  the  dawn  of  his  manhood  for  the  far-off 
frontiers  of  a  foreign  land,  who,  while  great  move- 
ments were  afoot  around  him,  and  a  magnificent 
race  of  men  were  organizing  civilization  in  the 
wilderness,  became  a  power  for  good  among  gentle 
and  simple,  guarding  faithfully  the  most  sacred 
interests  that  can  be  committed  to  human  keeping, 
exemplifying  the  graces  that  adorn  the  priesthood, 
and  cheerfully  enduring  the  sacrifices  that  forty 
years  of  pioneer  ministry  necessitated.  Lives  that 
are  unobtrusively  devoted  to  truth  and  duty  and 
kindness  amid  the  tangled  confusion  of  the  world 

[  24  ] 


FATHER  CAILLET 

are  usually  devoid  of  incident  that  deserves  to  be 
blazoned  abroad.  Their  very  simplicity  ofttimes 
veils  their  true  nobility  from  all  except  discerning 
eyes.  So  was  it  with  Father  Caillet.  So  is  it  with 
these  letters.  They  record  no  profound  reflections, 
they  chronicle  no  startling  occurrences.  They 
give  us  fleeting  glimpses  of  what  was  most  charm- 
ing in  the  man  who  wrote  them — the  affectionate 
simplicity  of  a  priestly  soul. 

Slender  souvenirs  of  a  holy  priest,  who  was  also 
the  trusted  friend  and  guide  of  all  for  whose  eyes 
the  following  pages  are  intended,  these  little  letters, 
casual  memorials  of  years  gone  by,  may  revive  fad- 
ing memories,  and  bring  back  some  of  the  sweetness 
and  fragrance  of  the  days  they  recall. 


[25  ] 


AUGUST  NICHOLAS  CHEMIDLIN 


AUGUST  CHEMIDLIN  AND  HIS  WIFE 

At  the  time  of  their  Marriage  in  1852 


A.  N.  CHEMIDLIN 

August  Nicholas  Chemidlin  was  born  December 
fifth,  1825,  in  Lorraine,  France,  in  the  httle  village 
of  Imlin,  or  Yhmling,  in  the  vicinity  of  Nancy. 
He  was  the  son  of  Nicholas  Chemidlin,  and  the 
eldest  of  a  family  of  eight  sons  and  one  daughter. 
He  received  his  education  from  the  Jesuits,  prob- 
ably at  their  college  at  Nancj^  as  he  always  spoke 
of  that  city  as  though  he  had  lived  there — a  univer- 
sity town  of  great  historic  interest,  and  graced  with 
some  of  the  most  ex(juisite  examples  of  eighteenth 
century  architecture.  He  described  Lacordaire's 
visits  to  his  college,  and  it  appears  that  this  gifted 
priest  went  to  Nancy  and  founded  a  Dominican 
Convent  when  August  was  seventeen  years  old. 
He  used  to  take  long  walking  trips  in  his  vacations, 
which  remained  an  enchanting  memory  all  his  life. 
After  leaving  college  he  studied  a  while  for  the 
priesthood,  but  gave  it  up,  and  he  and  his  brother 
John  went  to  seek  their  fortunes  in  America. 

The  time  of  their  arrival  there  is  not  known,  but 
in  1852  August,  then  twenty-six  years  old,  went  to 
White  Plains,  New  York,  where  he  lived  for  a  year 
or  two,  giving  private  lessons  in  the  Lorillard  and 
Stuyvesant  Fish  families.  This  is  the  year  of  his 
marriage,  which  took  place  in  Brooklyn,  to  Celena, 
daughter  of  Gabriel  Franchere. 

[  29  ] 


A.  N.  CHEMIDLIN 

Mrs.  Chemidlin's  father  came  from  Montreal. 
He  was  a  member  of  the  expedition  sent  by  John 
Jacob  Astor  to  found  Astoria  at  the  mouth  of  the 
Columbia  river,  and  sailed  from  New  York  in  the 
ill-fated  Tonquin  in  September,  1810.  His  narra- 
tive was  the  first  history  of  the  Astor  Expeditions 
and  the  basis  for  Washington  Irving's  "Astoria." 
On  his  return  journey  he  travelled  overland  5,000 
miles  in  canoes  and  on  foot.  He  engaged  in  the 
fur  trade  at  Sault  Sainte  Marie,  and  later  establish- 
ed the  commercial  house  of  Franchere  and  Com- 
pany in  New  York.  The  Society  of  St.  Jean- 
Baptiste,  for  French-Canadians  in  the  United 
States,  was  founded  by  him.  He  married  the 
widow  of  Joseph  Prince  of  Cincinnati,  the  mother 
of  John  S.  Prince,  who  went  to  St.  Paul  in  1854. 

Mr.  Prince  built  a  spacious  house  on  Eighth 
Street,  which  was  occupied  by  his  family  in  1856. 
Mr.  Franchere,*  accompanied  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Chemidlin,  visited  Saint  Paul  that  year  in  the  sum- 
mer, which  was  the  height  of  the  season  for  travel 
in  the  days  of  river  steamboats.**  When  the  head 
of  navigation  was  reached  what  a  charming  picture 
the  new  settlement  must  have  made,  encircled  by 
green  hills,  in  a  sparkling  atmosphere  with  nothing 
to  cloud  it  but  the  fragrant  smoke  of  wood  fires. 
Mr.  Chemidlin  decided  to  settle  in  Saint  Paul,  and 

*It  was  at  the  home  of  his  stepson  that  Franchere  died  in  1863, 
and  the  last  survivor  of  the  Astor  Expedition  lies  buried  in  Saint 
Paul,  in  the  Prince  plot  in  Calvary  Cemetery. 

**Mr.  James  J.  Hill  arrived  in  July  of  the  same  year. 

[  30  ] 


A.  N.  CHEMIDLIN 

in  1858  he  bought  a  farm  in  the  vicinity  of  Lake 
Josephine.  There  they  hved  for  four  years,  hav- 
ing as  a  member  of  the  family  Theophile  Chemid- 
hn,  a  young  nephew  who  joined  his  uncle  in  Saint 
Paul  in  the  spring  of  1858  and  continued  to  live 
with  him  for  eight  years.  The  friendship  with 
Father  Caillet  began  in  1857,  at  the  time  of  his  or- 
dination. Mrs.  Prince  knew  him  as  a  student  for 
the  priesthood,  and  the  two  Frenchmen  may  have 
met  at  her  house. 

In  the  spring  of  1862  the  life  of  a  farmer  must 
have  been  discouraging,  for  we  find  Mr.  Chemidlin 
giving  it  up  to  accept  the  appointment  of  toll-col- 
lector at  the  Suspension  Bridge  across  the  Missis- 
sippi between  Saint  Anthony  and  Minneapolis. 
The  toll-house  stood  almost  alone  on  Nicollet  Is- 
land, above  Saint  Anthonv  Falls,  then  in  all  their 
natural  beauty.  The  island  was  finely  wooded  and 
a  paradise  to  the  boy  Theophile  and  his  friends, 
who  could  hunt  to  their  hearts'  content.  One  of  them 
recalls  radiant  autumn  days  when  the  drum  of  a 
partridge  would  frequently  sound  from  the  woods 
nearby,  and  speaks  of  lying  in  the  grass  on  summer 
nights,  listening  to  Mrs.  Chemidlin's  singing,  "the 
voice  of  an  angel"  to  those  boyish  ears.  She  was 
small  and  dark,  and  gay  in  spirit.  The  charm  of 
the  place  for  her  young  nieces  was  the  garden  of 
old-fashioned  flowers,  which  "Uncle"  rose  early  to 
cultivate.  This  idyllic  life  was  interrupted  in  the 
spring  of  1864,  when  Captain  James  L.  Fisk  or- 

[  31  ] 


A.  N.  CHEMIDLIN 

ganized  an  expedition  to  the  Montana  gold  fields, 
and  Mr.  Chemidlin  made  the  trip  with  him  in  charge 
of  the  commissary.  He  returned  in  the  autumn 
and  resumed  his  position  at  the  toll-gate,  remaining 
there  until  1866.  Theophile  left  him  in  the  spring 
of  that  year  and  went  to  Montana,  where  he  settled 
at  Fort  Benton.  The  Chemidlins  remained  on  the 
island  for  a  time  and  opened  an  ice-cream  parlor, 
the  prototype  of  the  modern  tea-house,  in  a  house 
on  the  hillside  facing  the  lovely  view.  It  is  re- 
membered by  its  old  clientele  as  a  place  of  great 
charm,  and  it  was  later  taken  over  by  Charles 
Wales.  In  1868  Mr.  Chemidlin  was  in  Saint  Paul, 
nursing  Father  Caillet  through  a  serious  illness, 
and  seeking  a  new  situation,  which  proved  to  be 
at  Crystal  Lake,  Minnesota,  where  he  took  charge 
of  a  general  store,  owned  by  Bruno  Beaupre  of 
Saint  Paul.  After  a  few  years  there  he  returned 
to  Saint  Anthony,  where  he  again  took  up  teaching. 
He  had  as  pupils  the  two  elder  daughters  of  An- 
thony Kelly,  and  was  engaged  by  Father  Tissot 
to  teach  the  boys'  classes  in  the  parish  school  of 
Saint  Anthony  of  Padua,  his  wife  becoming  or- 
ganist in  the  church.  In  1879  he  was  about  to 
open  a  school  in  Saint  Paul,  but  through  Father 
Caillet  he  met  Mr.  Hill,  and  was  pursuaded  by  him 
to  become  tutor  to  his  children  instead.  At  that 
time  the  Hill  house  at  the  corner  of  Ninth  and 
Canada  Streets  was  new,  and  Mr.  Hill  was  just 
entering  on  his  career  as  a  railroad  man.     Mary, 

[  32   ] 


X 

I- 

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A.  N.  CHEMIDLIN 

James  and  Louis  were  the  pupils,  and  John  Kelly 
was  with  them  for  a  short  time.  Clara  was  privi- 
leged to  come  and  go,  and  of  greater  interest  to  her 
than  her  A  B  C's  were  the  delicately  pencilled 
flowers,  shells  and  butterflies  with  which  her 
teacher  used  to  decorate  the  flyleaves  of  the  school 
books. 

There  were  not  only  lessons,  but  afternoon  walks, 
not  less  instructive  and  wholly  delightful.  Who 
would  not  enjoy  a  visit  to  an  iron  foundry,  a  hunt 
for  cornehans  in  a  railroad  cut,  or  the  Wabasha 
Street  bridge  at  the  time  of  the  spring  floods,  when, 
with  luck,  one  might  see  a  house  floating  down  the 
river?  But  best  of  all  were  Carver's  Cave,  the  fish 
hatchery,  and  the  Indian  Mounds,  all  in  delightful 
proximity.  The  Indian  Mounds  as  left  by  their 
builders,  commanding  a  magnificent  sweep  of  the 
winding  river,  was  the  spot  for  the  first  crocuses. 
Near  the  fish  hatchery  was  a  famous  ground  for 
frogging  parties.  The  frogs'  legs  were  amputated 
to  be  taken  home  for  a  delectable  dish;  and  to  a 
little  girl  that  was  a  less  desirable  pastime  than 
gathering  wild  flowers  in  a  nearby  ravine.  What 
quaint  bouquets  Mr.  Chemidlin  could  make,  and 
how  well  he  knew  the  haunts  of  the  rarest  flowers! 
These  children  took  quite  for  granted  his  knowl- 
edge of  botany,  geology  or  ethnology;  but  in  later 
years  they  realized  that  his  love  of  nature  and  art, 
of  reading  and  study,  was  his  chief  resource,  and 
the  evidence  of  the  old  world  education  which  was 

[  33  ] 


A.  N.  CHEMIDLIN 

his  sole  equipment  for  the  life  of  a   Minnesota 
pioneer. 

There  were  summers  spent  at  Lake  Elmo,  at 
Lake  Minnetonka  after  the  opening  of  the  Lafay- 
ette Hotel,  and  finally  at  "the  farm,"  Mr.  Hill's 
country  place  on  Pleasant  Lake,  ten  miles  north 
of  town,  where  Father  Caillet  also  used  to  spend 
his  summer  holiday.  The  two  friends  took  daily 
walks,  often  around  the  lake,  when  Father  Caillet's 
little  joke  was  to  urge  the  recalcitrant  to  accom- 
pany them  at  least  half  way.  Mr.  Chemidlin  was 
always  a  familiar  figure  on  the  lake  and  an  expe- 
rienced fisherman. 

After  the  death  of  his  wife  in  1883,  Mr.  Chem- 
idlin went  to  live  at  the  Prince's,  where  he  spent  the 
remaining  eighteen  years  of  his  life.  That  house 
and  garden  was  a  fine  example  of  the  old  homes  of 
"lower  town,"  built  in  a  more  spacious  proportion 
than  those  of  today,  and  ruled  by  a  more  hospitable, 
if  simpler  regime.  Two  blocks  away  stood  Saint 
Mary's  church,  truly  the  shrine  of  this  Catholic 
family.  Here  Mrs.  Prince  always  paid  the  first 
of  her  visits;  her  sister,  Mrs.  Shawe,  was  organist 
and  leader  of  the  choir,  a  position  which  remained 
in  her  family  for  fifty  years;  and  the  lamp  of  the 
sanctuary,  lit  by  Charlotte  Prince  in  1867,  was  kept 
burning  by  one  of  her  younger  sisters  until  the  last 
day  in  the  old  home  in  1903.  This  house,  like  Mr. 
Hill's,  was  taken  down  as  soon  as  vacated  by  the 
family.     The  railroad  terminals  have  obliterated 

[  34  ] 


A.  N.  CHEMIDLIN 

every  vestige  of  that  early  quarter  of  town,  which 
exists  now  only  in  our  memories,  with  all  the  glam- 
our of  childhood  and  youth. 

Mr.  Chemidlin's  pupils  continued  with  him  until 
1885,  when  they  were-  succeeded  by  their  younger 
sisters  and  brother,  all  of  whom  were  his  French 
scholars.  The  trip  abroad  with  Father  Caillet  in 
1889  was  his  first  return  to  Europe.  He  then  re- 
visited his  birthplace  and  found  only  a  heap  of 
ruins,  the  work  of  the  Germans  in  1870,  and  never 
rebuilt. 

In  1891  the  Hills  moved  into  the  house  on  Sum- 
mit Avenue,  where  for  the  next  ten  years  Mr.  Che- 
midlin  was  a  frequent  visitor.  When  the  lilies-of- 
the-valley  bloomed,  for  which  the  Prince  garden 
was  famous,  he  never  failed  to  appear  with  a  bunch 
of  them  which  he  had  gathered  for  Mrs.  Hill,  the 
yearly  token  of  his  devotion  to  her.  The  courtly 
manners  of  his  youth  clung  to  him,  and  his  en- 
trance with  a  bow  and  the  salutation  "Mesdames, 
votre  serviteur,"  was  always  warmly  welcomed. 
His  talk  and  banter  were  a  delight  and  his  eyes 
would  shine  with  their  old  fire.  In  1895  he  again 
went  to  Europe  with  Father  Caillet;  unfortunately 
we  have  no  letters  from  him  while  on  this  trip.  In 
the  following  year  there  was  a  new  bond  between 
his  family  and  the  Princes,  when  Louis  Nicholas 
Chemidlin,  son  of  his  brother  John,  married  Grace 
Prince.  The  last  letters  in  this  book  were  written 
from  their  house,  when  he  visited  them  in  1897. 

[  35  ] 


A.  N.  CHEMIDLIN 

He  gave  French  lessons  to  some  of  his  friends, 
and  did  some  work  in  the  offices  of  the  Great  North- 
ern Railway,  but  in  his  later  years  poor  health  and 
increasing  age  did  not  admit  of  more  than  his  daily 
walk  and  hours  of  reading.  On  July  sixteenth, 
1901,  at  the  age  of  seventy-five,  he  met  his  death 
under  the  wheels  of  a  fire  engine,  while  walking 
home  from  the  Public  Library.  He  lived  only  long 
enough  to  receive  the  last  Sacraments,  in  an  uncon- 
scious condition.     A  violent  end  to  a  gentle  life! 

The  writer  of  this  memoir  was  in  France  at  the 
time,  and  received  in  the  same  mail  both  the  news 
of  his  death  and  a  letter  from  him.  He  asked  her 
to  visit  for  him  his  favorite  spots,  to  eat  a  certain 
dish,  to  watch  the  children  play,  and  to  think  of 
him  when  gazing  on  the  beauty  of  that  pleasant 
land.  In  closing  he  wondered  whether  our  reward 
in  the  next  world  might  be  to  visit  those  places 
which  we  loved  best  on  earth,  and  if  that  were  true, 
how  often  should  he  be,  where  she  was  now,  in 
France. 


[   30   ] 


LETTERS 


y. 

r. 


LETTERS 


Lyons,  May  28,  1868. 

Mrs.  Prince^ 
St.  Paul. 
My  Dear  Mrs.  Prince  : 

You  have  most  likely  heard  that  I  reached  Lyons 
on  the  13th  instant,  and  I  should  have  written  to 
you  sooner  had  it  not  been  for  a  severe  indisposition 
which  has  lasted  about  a  week,  and  is  now  nearly 
over.  During  those  days  I  often  thought  of  my 
good  little  nurses,  Charlotte  and  Nettie,  and  wish- 
ed I  had  them  near  mc,  or  rather  to  be  near  them. 
It  is  a  very  sad  thing  to  mar  the  happiness  which 
your  friends  enjoy  in  seeing  you,  by  the  sight  of 
sickness.  But  I  now  intend  to  be  very  careful  so 
not  to  have  another  relapse. 

I  need  not  tell  you  the  joy  of  my  dear  mother. 
You  can  imagine  that  better  than  I  could  express, 
and  also  of  my  brother  and  friends,  above  all,  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Markoe.  I  went  to  see  them  only 
twice  before  I  was  taken  ill,  but  they  have  come 
very  often  to  see  me  in  spite  of  the  very  long  dis- 
tance which  separates  their  house  from  the  one 
where  I  live.  And  then,  of  course,  our  conversations 
would  be  about  St.  Paul  and  our  dear  friends.     I 

[39] 


LETTERS 

must  assure  you  that  you  have  a  large  share  in  that 
conversation,  and  I  could  easily  bring  the  blush  to 
your  cheeks  were  I  to  repeat  to  you  all  the  good  we 
say  of  yourself,  but  I  shall  spare  you.     Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Markoe  appear  to  be  very  lonesome  in  their 
new  country,  particularly  Mr.  Markoe,  although 
he  tries  very  hard  to  hide  it  even  from  himself.  He 
does  not  speak  French,  and,  therefore,  is  cut  off 
from  society.     Mrs.  Markoe  would  get  along  very 
well,  as  she  speaks  quite  easily,  were  it  not  for  the 
loneliness  of  her  husband.     If  you  ever  come  to 
France,  I  advise  you  to  leave  Mr.  Prince  on  the 
other  side,  for  those  husbands  are  a  lot  of  trouble 
to  their  wives — take    Mr.    Markoe    for    instance. 
Lorenzo  and  Johnnie  are  delighted  to  have  me  here. 
It  makes  it  look,  they  say,  like  home.     I  have  not 
yet  seen  the  three  others,  but  expect  to  do  so  very 
soon.     Then  I  will  be  able  to  tease  our  sweet-sour 
girl.     Had  she  kissed  me  when  I  left  I  would  have 
perhaps  done  the  same  to  Rawly,  but  she  neglect- 
ed that,  and  I  shall  neglect  it  also. 

I  very  often  think  of  you,  Mrs.  Link  and  Mrs. 
Shawe.  You  are  such  lovers  of  beautiful  nature 
that  you  would  enjoy  even  being  sick  where  I  now 
reside.  The  house  is  in  a  garden  perfectly  filled 
with  flowers  and  fruits.  I  would  give  you  the 
flowers  and  eat  the  fruits,  but  it  is  charming,  and 
so  much  the  more  as  there  are  so  many  recollections 
of  the  past  connected  with  that  most  beautiful  spot. 

[  40  ] 


LETTERS 

There  is  our  playground,  where  Father  Tissot  and 
I  passed  so  many  pleasant  recreations;  the  trees 
upon  which  we  used  to  climb  to  have  the  pleasure 
of  studying  our  lessons  in  their  foliage;  the  chapel 
where  we  prayed  and  served  Mass;  our  good 
teacher,  and  his  sister  so  kind,  who,  in  spite  of  her 
eighty  years  can  run  as  swiftly  as  any  of  your  chil- 
dren. All  these  things,  you  will  understand,  have 
their  charm  and  speak  to  the  heart,  even  when  that 
is  sick  with  rheumatism,  but  I  wish  you  were  here 
only  for  a  few  days,  as  you  would  be  at  Pine  Bend. 
I  wish  your  lonesome  friend  from  that  corner  could 
be  with  you.*  We  have  the  most  delightful 
weather,  although  it  is  very  warm,  and  the  crops 
look  as  fine  as  may  be  desired.  The  vines  are 
crowded  with  grapes,  strawberries  are  beautiful 
and  plenty,  and  the  same  with  cherries,  plums,  apri- 
cots, etc. 

If  I  feel  well  enough,  I  intend  to  go  to  Stras- 
bourg and  call  to  see  Mr.  Chemidlin's  niece,  but  as 
I  do  not  intend  to  go  yet,  it  might  be  well  for  Mr. 
Chemidlin  to  write  to  me  in  case  he  had  something 
particular  to  say. 

I  have  not  mentioned  anything  about  my  journey 
as  you  shall  have  learned  all  from  letters  written  to 
others.  I  wish  very  much  I  had  the  use  of  my 
limbs  so  as  to  be  able  to  visit.  I  might  succeed  well 
in  obtaining  articles  for  our  church,  but  here  it  is 
not  as  in  New  York,  where  you  have  cars ;  you  must 

*Mrs.  H.  G.  O.  Morison. 

[  41   ] 


LETTERS 

entirely  trust  to  your  legs.  Pray  that  I  may  be 
able  to  walk  without  further  inconvenience. 

Now,  I  shall  expect  a  long  letter  from  you  with 
all  particulars  about  the  church,  without  forgetting 
our  dear  little  choir.  I  do  not  forget  them.  Tell 
Mrs.  Shawe  to  remember  me  to  them  all,  and  warn 
them  that  on  my  return  I  will  bring  them  plenty 
of  work  to  practice  on. 

Now,  how  is  my  good  friend,  Mr.  Prince?  I 
suppose  always  busy.  And  Mr.  Chemidlin,  has 
he  obtained  a  situation  yet?  Has  he,  at  least,  some 
prospects  of  obtaining  one?  And  your  good 
mother,  how  is  she  also?  Is  Mrs.  Shawe  speaking 
about  going  to  the  country? 

I  have  heard  of  the  change  made  in  the  school, 
and  feel  very  sorry  that  you  are  obliged  to  resort 
to  means  of  rather  doubtful  expediency  for  the  edu- 
cation of  your  children.  All  I  may  say  is,  do  for 
the  best  and  live  in  hope  of  having  very  soon  some- 
thing better,  more  substantial,  more  to  be  depended 
upon.* 

Please  give  my  best  regards  to  Mr.  Prince,  to 
Mrs.  Link,  Mrs.  Shawe  and  her  husband,  to  both 
your  brothers  and  their  wives,  and  my  love  to  all 
the  children,  and  a  big  kiss  to  Johnnie.  Tell  Mr. 
Chemidlin  that  I  do  not  forget  him  and  shall  soon 
write  to  him. 

*  Father  Caillet  brought  the  Sisters  of  the  Visitation  from 
St.  Louis. 

[  42   ] 


AUGUST  CHEMIDLIN,  ABOUT    18(io 


LETTERS 

I  will  now  close  my  letter  with  assurance  of  the 
cordial  affection  of  yours  in  Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 

I  have  every  reason  to  helieve  that  you  keep 
your  bureau  drawers  in  good  order. 


II 


Lyon*,  May  28,  1868. 


Miss  Charlotte  Prince, 
East  Eighth  St., 
St.  Paul. 

My  Dear  Child  Charlotte: 

I  received  your  kind  and  affectionate  note  this 
week  and  avail  myself  of  this  opportunity  to  answer 
it.  I  should  be,  indeed,  very  much  pleased  here  if 
my  good  friends  of  St.  Paul  could  be  here  with  me 
and  enjoy  the  beauties  of  the  country.  I  should 
like,  in  particular,  to  see  the  children,  I  mean  you 
all,  play  in  the  delightful  garden  under  my  win- 
dow. There  is  a  statue  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  al- 
most hidden  among  the  flowers.  How  you  would 
like  to  sing  the  litany  or  say  the  rosary  in  the  honor 
of  the  Mother  of  Holy  Love  among  those  flowers 
and  before  that  statue! 

I  see  by  your  letter  that  I  have  given  you  some 
anxiety  concerning  the  affection  I  bear  to  Nettie, 
but  do  you  believe  that  this  excludes  you  from  my 
love  or  any  one  among  you,  my  dear  children? 
Mistake:  you  have  not  understood  what  I  meant 

[   43] 


LETTERS 

when  I  sent  you  the  little  scrap  about  the  darling. 
I  well  knew  that  none  among  you  had  all  the  qual- 
ities therein  described;  some  had  more,  some  less, 
perhaps,  but  everyone  had  some  and  endeavored  to 
obtain  all,  and,  therefore,  you  are  all  one  darling  to 
me:  then  you  need  not  be  jealous  of  Nettie,  nor 
Mamie  of  you,  for  I  love  you  all. 

I  have  delivered  to  Mrs.  Markoe  the  present  you 
sent  to  her.  She  was  very  much  pleased  with  your 
idea  and  admired  very  much  the  execution.  Lor- 
enzo and  Johnnie  are  the  only  children  at  home  for 
the  present.  Willie,  Rawly  and  James  are  at 
Meximieux.  Wednesday  next,  the  whole  family 
will  move  to  a  village  nine  miles  from  Lyons  and 
about  six  from  Meximieux. 

After  a  few  months  I  shall  return  to  St  Paul. 
Pray  that  I  may  be  in  good  health  to  be  able  to  ac- 
complish my  task.  I  have  enjoyed  very  much 
meeting  my  friends  here,  but  I  may  assure  you 
that  my  joy  will  be  double  in  meeting  my  friends 
in  St.  Paul.  Tell  Aunt  Shawe  that  I  do  not  forget 
her  or  family.  I  pray  for  them  all  that  God  may 
reward  them  all  for  her  kindness.  Remember  me 
also  to  the  girls  of  the  choir,  and  tell  them  that  my 
most  earnest  desire  is  to  see  them  all  together  on 
mv  return. 

Kiss  the  children  for  me.  Believe  me  ever  yours 
affectionately  in  Christ,  l^  Caillet. 

P.  S.    Tell  my  dear,  wild,  little  Mamie  to  pre- 

[  44  ] 


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l-H 

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LETTERS 

pare  a  nice  piece  of  music  to  play  for  me  at  my 
return. 

Ill 

Lyons,  July  12,  1868. 

Miss  Nettie  Prince, 
St.  Paul. 

My  dear  little  Nettie: 

My  little  bird  tells  me  that  you  are  surprised 
not  to  receive  a  few  lines  from  your  patient;  but 
I  know  the  good  heart  of  my  little  Nettie.  I  feel 
very  sure  that  she  will  not  think  that  I  am  indiffer- 
ent or  forgetful,  so  I  have  let  my  little  bird  talk 
as  much  as  it  pleased  and  waited  for  the  first  op- 
portunity to  write  you  a  few  words. 

I  have  now  been  in  Lyons  for  nearly  two 
months.  During  that  time  I  have  had  several  oc- 
casions of  regretting  not  to  have  my  little  nurse 
by  me.  At  times  it  was  for  my  own  sake,  and 
again,  it  would  have  been  for  her  own.  I  fancied 
how  much  pleasure  she  would  have  in  seeing  all  the 
beautiful  things  which  I  did  see,  how  she  would 
enjoy  herself  in  a  French  kitchen,  where  she  could 
learn  so  many  different  ways  of  cooking  the 
same  thing.  I  was  told  the  other  day  that  pota- 
toes could  be  prepared  in  forty  different  ways. 
What  must  it  be  of  other  things?  You  would  also 
have  enjoyed  very  much  our  beautiful  flowers  and 

[  45  ] 


LETTERS 

delightful  fruits,  for  I  have  arrived  in  good  season 
for  all  those  things. 

My  dear  child,  the  time  is  coming  near  when  I 
shall  see  you  again,  also  your  papa  and  mamma, 
and  all  your  sisters,  and  I  prize  this  pleasure  above 
all  those  I  have  had  or  could  have  in  France.  I 
hope  to  find  you  endeavoring  by  all  means  to  be- 
come good,  pious,  and  to  improve  yourself  also  in 
your  studies.  Do  your  best  in  this  latter  respect, 
my  child,  even  against  your  inclination,  and  you 
will  rejoice  for  that  effort  in  after  life.  I  have 
seen  Rawly,  Willie  and  Jimmie  at  the  seminary. 
They  are  all  well  and  contented,  although  they  re- 
gret deeply  the  company  of  their  kind  young 
friends  of  lower  town.  Jimmie  thinks  the  house 
drawn  by  Charlotte  quite  imperfect  because  there 
is  no  cat  on  the  gate  post,  but  they  blame  Uncle 
for  not  allowing  Nettie  to  try  her  hand  at  it. 

Good-bye,  my  dear  child.  Kiss  the  young  ones 
for  me  and  give  my  best  regards  to  papa,  mamma 
and  grandma,  without  forgetting  Miss  now  seven- 
teen, and  yet  my  child. 

Yours  affectionately, 

L.  Caillet. 


[  46  ] 


LETTERS 

IV 

Lyons,  July  25,  1868. 

Mr.  J.  S.  Prince, 
St.  Paul. 

My  Dear  Friend: 

I  am  very  happy,  indeed,  to  be  able  to  tell  you 
that  my  health  is  wonderfully  improved  and  I  am 
doing  better  every  day.  For  some  time  after  my 
arrival  in  France  I  hardly  knew  how  it  might  turn. 
I  felt  much  better  than  when  I  left  St.  Paul,  yet  I 
had  so  much  pain  that  I  was  unable  to  take  the 
exercise  which  was  otherwise  necessary.  Now  it  is 
very  different.  I  often  walk  in  town  the  distance  of 
three  or  four  miles  without  other  inconvenience 
than  transient  fatigue.  My  journey  to  Strasbourg 
and  Luneville  seems  to  have  benefited  me  very 
much,  and  I  have  every  reason  to  hope  that  my 
trip  back  to  St.  Paul  will  complete  my  recovery. 
I  shall  then  be  a  new  man  in  every  respect,  and 
with  God's  assistance  we  will  be  able  to  complete 
the  good  work  which  we  have  begun  together.  I 
do  not  depend  on  human  schemes  but,  as  I  have 
said,  on  God's  assistance.  Who  will  move  the  good 
will  of  all  my  friends  in  behalf  of  the  work  under- 
taken for  His  own  glory  and  the  salvation  of  souls. 
During  my  stay  in  France,  I  have  not  forgot- 
ten our  dear  St.  Mary's,  and  although  I  would 
have  done   much  better   had   it  not  been   for   my 

[  *7  ] 


LETTERS 

lameness,  I  have  succeeded  in  obtaining  articles 
which  will  certainly  please  the  congregation,  es- 
pecially the  ladies  of  the  Altar  Society.  Mrs. 
Prince  will  find  material  to  make  flowers,  and  Mrs. 
Link,  pieces  of  silk  to  make  sofa  cushions  and  lit- 
tle quilts.  There  is  no  chance  to  get  money  here 
on  interest,  although  money  is  abimdant  and  loaned 
at  a  very  low  interest,  but  people  think  the  United 
States  too  far  to  send  money  there  for  investment. 

Please  tell  my  good  friend,  Mrs.  Shawe,  that  I 
have  not  forgotten  our  choir,  although  so  far  I 
have  not  purchased  one  sheet  of  music.  I  intend 
to  see  the  leader  of  the  Cathedral's  choir,  who  is  a 
priest,  and  ask  him  his  advice  before  buying  any- 
thing. 

Last  week  I  went  to  Meximieux,  where,  to  my 
great  astonishment,  1  met  Father  Genis.  I  am 
afraid  he  has  made  a  great  mistake  in  listening  to 
the  entreaties  of  his  parents,  if  he  has  the  desire  of 
returning  to  St.  Paul,  for  they  will  move  every- 
thing to  keep  him  here. 

The  day  before  yesterday,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Mar- 
koe  came  to  Lyons  and  we  spent  some  pleasant 
hours  together.  They  seem  better  pleased  in 
JMontluel  than  they  were  in  Lyons,  and  if  they  are 
as  well  contented  next  winter,  there  is  some 
probability  of  their  spending  several  years  in 
France.  They  send  their  love  to  you,  to  Mrs. 
Prince,  Mrs.  Shawe,  Mrs.  Link  and  the  children. 

[  48  ] 


C 


C 


O 


LETTERS 

This  afternoon  I  forward  my  boxes  to  Havre. 
Thus  you  see  I  am  actually  making  preparations 
for  my  return.  Will  you  be  so  kind  to  think  of 
that  free  ticket  of  which  you  spoke  to  me  in  St. 
Paul,  and  for  which  I  will  be  most  obliged  to  you? 

I  have  received,  some  days  ago,  Mrs.  Prince's  let- 
ter, and  also  Charlotte's,  for  which  please  give 
them  my  best  thanks.  Mrs.  Prince  and  Charlotte 
have  given  many  interesting  details  which  pleased 
me  very  much.  As  I  am  at  the  last  days  of  my 
visit  and  have  much  visiting  to  do,  I  may  not  be 
able  to  send  her  an  answer,  which  I  would  like  very 
much  to  do. 

I  have  heard  almost  nothing  about  our  church 
matters  and  feel  some  anxiety  about  them.  The 
Bishop  has  written  to  me  but  said  very  little 
about  that;  however,  I  shall  soon  be  in  the  run  of 
everything.  I  hope  the  strawberry  festival  has 
proved  a  success. 

We  have  here  an  intense  heat — almost  impos- 
sible to  sleep.  We  wake  up  as  though  we  were 
in  a  bath  or  in  the  river;  in  fact,  baths  are  of  very 
little  consequence  when  one  is  streaming  the 
whole  day  and  the  whole  night.  The  wheat  crop 
has  been  very  good;  we  need  rain  for  the  grape- 
vine; otherwise  it  will  spoil. 

I  am  very  thankful  for  the  paper,  as  ever5rthing 
that  concerns  St.  Paul  is  of  interest  to  me. 

My  kindest  regards  to  Mrs.  Prince,  Mrs.  Link, 

[  49  ] 


LETTERS 

Mrs.  Shawe  and  to  all  the  children,  and  a  kiss  to 
Johnnie  and  another,  if  you  like,  to  my  friend  Mr. 
Chemidlin.  Remember  me  to  the  neighbors,  and 
believe  me  yours  very  truly  and  affectionately  in 

Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 

V 

8t.  Paul,  7th  Nov.,  1870. 

Miss  Fanny  Prince, 

Convent  of  the  Visitation, 
Saint  Louis. 

My  dear  little  Fanny : 

How  happily  disappointed  I  was  the  other  day 
when  I  received  your  good  little  letter.  I  dared 
not  to  hope  for  such  good  fortune,  also  I  read  it 
with  the  utmost  pleasure.  It  was  so  good  of  you, 
dear  Fannv,  to  write  to  me  first  before  even  I 
wrote  that,  if  I  could,  I  would  love  you  still  more 
for  it. 

I  am  glad  to  learn  that  you  are  not  as  lonesome 
as  I  was  afraid  you  would  be.  When  you  feel 
low  spirited  turn  your  mind  to  God,  tell  Him  your 
little  troubles,  and  He  will  console  you. 

Among  your  companions,  always  seek  the  best, 
the  most  pious,  so  that  you  may  be  benefited  by 
their  good  example.  But  especially  cling  to 
Mamie,  and  always  consider  her  the  best  among 
your  friends:  support  each  other,  have  no  secrets 

[  50  ] 


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LETTERS 

from  one  another  and  you  will  be  as  happy  as  you 
can  be  away  from  your  happiest,  sweetest  home. 

Study  as  diligently  as  you  can,  improve  every 
opportunity,  and  I  hope  that  it  will  not  always  be 
necessary  to  banish  you  away  from  your  dear  par- 
ents and  friends  for  the  sake  of  education. 

Of  course  you  know  all  about  the  fair,  and  how 
faithfully  dear  Charlotte  and  Nettie  have  worked 
for  the  little  orphans:  may  our  good  God  reward 
them  by  many  blessings. 

Goodbye,  my  dear  child.  Believe  me  yours  very 
affectionately  in  the  hearts  of  Jesus  and  Mary, 

L.  Caillet. 

VI 

8t.  Paul,   17th  Jan.,  1877. 

Miss  Nettie  Prince, 

Convent  of  the  Visitation, 
St.  Louis. 

My  dear  child  Nettie: 

It  seems  so  long  since  you  left  us  that  I  feel  I 
must  write.  Yesterday  I  was  at  the  house  and 
learned  that  you  had  written  and  were  enjoying 
your  visit  very  much.  It  would  be  superfluous 
for  me  to  say  how  gratified  I  am  to  see  the  object 
of  your  journey  so  successfully  attained.  Make 
the  most  of  it,  dear  Nettie,  and  although  we  miss 
you  very  much  here,  no  one  would  be  so  selfish  as 

[  51  ] 


LETTERS 

to  deprive  you  on  his  account  of  even  one  hour  of 
the  enjoyment  you  have  so  painfully  earned. 

Father  and  mother,  and  also  grandma  and  all 
are  very  well,  and,  although  all  is  very  quiet  at 
home,  every  one  thinks  of  you  and  looks  with  a 
longing  desire  for  your  return. 

I  wish  your  mother  were  with  you,  for  I  believe 
that  it  would  be  good  for  her.  She  does  not  go  out 
at  all  and  remains  too  much  with  her  own  thoughts. 

Our  sewing  circle  is  enlarging.  Yesterday,  we 
had  about  a  dozen  of  persons,  comprising  quite  a 
number  of  young  ladies.  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
them  take  an  interest  and  pleasure  in  doing  that 
good  work.  The  choir  goes  on  as  usual,  but 
your  absence  is  very  much  felt.  I  wish  you  could 
find  some  nice  easy  masses  with  plenty  of  choruses 
in  them,  so  that  we  may  do  away  with  many  of 
our  solos.  I  do  not  say  with  all,  but  with  many, 
as  it  would  be  more  according  to  the  spirit  of  church 
music. 

How  is  dear  little  Em?  Does  she  enjoy  herself 
also?  I  hope  she  does  and  helps  to  make  things 
lively  all  around.  And  yourself — how  is  it  about 
yourself?  Are  all  those  cobwebs  swept  out  of 
your  mind?  Write  me  a  little  letter  and  tell  me 
how  it  is. 

Now  I  see  that  I  ought  to  close  this  letter  as  I 
am  coming  to  the  end  of  the  paper.  Give  my 
kindest    regards  to    Sister    Evangelista    and    to 

[  52   ] 


LETTERS 

Mother  and  the  other  sisters,  and  last  but  not 
least,  to  oiir  little  Em. 

Yours  very  affectionately  in  Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 

VII 

St.  Paul,  14th  March,  1883. 

Mrs.  M.  R.  Morgan, 
San  Francisco. 

My  Dear  Child  in  Christ: 

I  received  your  kind  note  of  the  28th  February, 
a  few  days  after  my  return  from  New  Mexico.  I 
had  secretly  entertained  the  hope  of  being  able  to 
offer  you  a  surprise,  but  Father  Tissot  did  not  feel 
willing  to  go  so  far,  and  as  I  could  not  leave  him 
I  had  to  make  the  sacrifice  of  my  visit,  at  least  for 
the  present.  Father  Tissot  is  much  improved  from 
his  journey,  but  I  fear  that  he  will  go  to  work  and 
lose  more  than  he  has  gained.  Today,  Mrs.  Gordon 
was  buried;  last  Sunday,  her  mother,  Mrs.  Bor- 
up;  the  Sunday  before,  General  Simpson.  Since 
then  they  have  received  the  news  of  the  death  of 
Captain  Hartley.  So  you  may  see  how  much  that 
family  is  afflicted !  I  have  received  this  week  a  let- 
ter from  Mrs.  McQuillan,  dated  from  Naples.  They 
were  all  well  and  intended  to  go  to  Rome,  where 
they  will  spend  the  Holy  Week.  By  this  time 
you  have  seen  the  Beaupres.     If  they  are  yet  in 

[53  ] 


LETTERS 

Francisco,   please  remember  me  kindly   to  them 
when  you  see  them. 

Father  Keane,  my  assistant,  does  admirably  well, 
and  I  wish  I  could  say  the  same  of  the  choir,  but 
I  cannot,  for  it  is  about  entirely  demorahzed,  and 
if  something  is  not  done  very  soon,  we  will  have 
none  at  all.  Today  I  received  a  letter  from  the 
General,  which  interested  me  very  deeply.  Please 
tell  him  that  I  shall  answer  very  soon,  and  also  give 
him  my  kindest  regards,  also  to  Wilfred  and  Mabel. 
You  may  be  sure  that  my  visit  is  only  postponed 
and  that  I  will  take  the  very  first  opportunity  to 
cross  over  to  California.  You  are  wrong  when 
you  make  excuses  for  the  manner  your  first  letter 
was  written.  Let  me  assure  you  that  I  never  was 
better  pleased  with  a  letter  than  I  was  with  that 
one.  It  was  so  much  yourself  that  I  could  hear 
you  talk,  and  if  you  wish  to  please  me  you  will 
write  many  like  that  one. 

Now,  I  remain  your  sincere  friend  in  Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 


[  54  ] 


J 


X 


cc 


LETTERS 


VIII 

Havr;  14th  Oct.,  1889. 

Mrs.  J.  J.  PIiLL, 

Ninth  and  Canada  Sts., 
St.  Paul. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hiix: 

I  know  that  both  you  and  Mr.  Hill  will  be 
pleased  to  know  that  we  are  safely  landed  in 
Havre,  and  pai-ticularly  that  Mr.  Chemidlin  has 
very  much  improved  in  bodily  health  and  also  in 
disposition.  It  is  true  he  was  not  seasick ;  this  may 
account  for  the  latter  in  a  measure.  I  have  been 
able  to  limit  him  to  about  five  cigars  a  day;  this 
is  still  too  much,  and  I  told  him  this  morning  that 
he  would  have  to  do  better.  True,  we  have  five 
meals  a  day,  for  that  barbarian  called  a  lunch  a 
meal.  I  suppose  to  have  his  smoke.  Well,  enough 
of  backbiting,  although  he  is  writing  at  the  same 
table  and,  I  am  sure,  not  sparing  me. 

We  had  the  finest  trip  on  the  ocean  that  could 
be  desired,  and  not  a  particle  of  seasickness,  as  the 
five  meals  a  day  and  the  same  number  of  smokes 
will  tell.  We  had  some  very  nice  company, 
but  not  much  fun,  owing  to  too  many  being  sick. 
There  is  one  drawback  about  this  fast  traveling — 
it  is  that  as  soon  as  you  begin  to  know  people  and 
to  enjoy  their  society  it  is  time  to  part.     However, 

[  55  ] 


LETTERS 

we  did  not  come  for  this  kind  of  pleasure;  we  left 
it  at  home  and  hope  to  find  it  there  when  we  return. 

We  called  at  the  Albemarle  when  in  New  York, 
but  Mr.  Hill  had  left  and  we  had  not  the  pleasure 
of  saying  good-bye  once  more.  Today  after  break- 
fast we  intend  to  ride  around  and  see  Havre — we 
shall  also  take  a  walk  in  the  quaint,  narrow  streets 
of  the  old  portion  of  the  city  and  will,  no  doubt, 
see  many  things  of  interest.  Tomorrow  morning 
we  shall  leave  for  Paris  and  take  in  the  big  show. 
My  nephew  will  meet  us  there,  probably  next  Sun- 
day, so  as  to  spend  a  week  with  us  in  Paris.  Then 
on  to  Lyons,  and  Mr.  Chemidlin  to  Lorraine. 
After  a  couple  weeks  we  will  meet  again  and  then 
go  South. 

I  hope  and  pray  that  you  may  all  be  well  dur- 
ing the  coming  winter.  Please  remember  us  most 
kindly  to  Mr.  Hill  and  the  children,  also  to  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Samuel  Hill,  without  forgetting  the  baby, 
as  far  as  she  can  be  impressed.  It  was  so  kind  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  S.  Hill  to  come  to  see  me  before  I 
left. 

With  best  wishes  for  your  welfare,  I  remain  very 
respectfully  yours, 

L.  Caillet. 


[   56  ] 


LETTERS 

IX 

Paris,  20th    Oct.,  1889. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hiix: 

While  Uncle  and  my  nephew  are  dissipating  to- 
day—Sunday—at the  Exposition,  I  improve  the 
time  to  write  a  few  letters.  You  will  be  pleased  to 
hear  of  the  wonderful  improvement  in  Mr.  Chemid- 
lin's  condition ;  he  has  lost  all  that  sallow  color,  has 
a  splendid  appetite,  and  as  for  walking,  he  is  a  per- 
fect machine  and  hardly  ever  complains  of  being 
tired.  The  only  question  with  me  is  whether,  when 
the  excitement  is  over,  there  will  be  no  reaction.  I 
watch  him,  although  I  do  not  say  anything,  and 
when  I  want  him  to  rest  I  tell  him  that  I  am  tired. 
Nothing  pleases  him  better  than  to  think  that  I 
tire  sooner  than  he  does,  and  really,  sometimes  I  do. 

We  have  visited  the  Exposition  perhaps  ten 
times  already  and  yet  have  seen  so  little!  Not, 
indeed,  for  lack  of  objects  to  be  seen,  but  on  ac- 
count of  their  too  great  number.  What  has  struck 
us  most  with  wonderment  has  been  the  "Galerie 
des  Machines."  O,  how  much  I  would  like  to  have 
Mr.  Hill  with  us,  for  he  would  be  so  much  better 
able  to  appreciate  all  that  is  exhibited  there,  par- 
ticularly in  the  way  of  railroad  machinery,  etc. 
The  next  thing  was  the  Eiffel  Tower,  which  is  not 
only  a  feat  of  iron  architecture,  but  also  a  work  of 
art  in  its  form  and  structure.     You  cannot  have 

[  57] 


LETTERS 

any  idea  of  its  elegance  of  form  and  beauty  of  pro- 
portion unless  you  are  close  to  it — all  the  cuts  we 
have  do  it  no  justice.  The  next  portion  which  in- 
terests me  most  is  the  Military  Department.  There 
one  can  see  everything  from  the  most  formidable 
engines  of  modern  warfare  to  the  minutest  details 
for  the  maintenance  of  our  army  in  campaign.  I 
have  not  yet  visited  the  galleries  of  painting  and 
sculpture,  nor  the  various  industrial  departments, 
which  I  intend  to  visit  this  week. 

My  nephew  brought  me  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Good- 
rich. She  is  living  in  Paris,  at  Passy,  and  I  have 
appointed  next  Tuesday  to  go  to  see  her.  I  called 
to  see  Tiny  Kelly ;  if  you  have  ever  seen  a  girl  glad 
to  see  somebody,  you  should  have  seen  her.  I  am 
going  there  tomorrow  afternoon,  expect  to  meet 
Miss  Mealey,  and  after  will  write  to  the  family. 

I  have  found  it  very  difficult  to  get  settled  in 
Paris  and  have  concluded  to  go  to  the  Pension 
where  we  had  stopped  before.  1'hey  give  us  break- 
fast at  9  o'clock,  dinner  at  7.  Between  those  hours 
we  have  all  the  time  we  want  to  see  and  get  tired 
seeing.  Of  course,  we  make  a  station  of  some 
restaurant  in  the  middle  of  the  day.  One  thing 
has  struck  me  most  affreeablv  in  connection  with 
the  Exposition:  that  is  the  conveniences  and  com- 
forts that  have  been  provided  for  sightseers. 
Whether  it  rains  or  shines,  vou  have  immense  awn- 
ings  to  shelter  you.     Chairs  and  benches  are  pro- 

[  58  ] 


LETTERS 

vided  all  over  to  rest  when  tired.  Four  orchestras 
discourse  music  while  you  take  meals  or  refresh- 
ments near  the  Palais  de  1' Industrie,  and  every- 
thino-  necessary  seems  to  have  been  foreseen. 

Please  give  our  kindest  regards  to  Mr.  Hill  and 
also  to  the  children  and  to  Mr.  Samuel  Hill  and 
Mary,  and  believe  me. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

L.  Caillet. 


X 


To'p  of  Eiffel  Tower, 
Oct.  21,  1889. 

Miss  Clara  Hill, 
St  Paul. 

My  dear  Clara: 

When  I  say  "Top  of  Eiffel  Tower"  it  is  to  keep 
my  word  to  you  to  write  from  that  eminence.  But 
it  was  impossible — too  crowded.  Think  a  little, 
nearly  five  million  people  have  made  themselves 
proud  by  going  there;  but  Father  Caillet  did  not. 
We  started  together;  at  the  first  story  he  was  yel- 
low; at  the  second  he  had  turned  green,  and  then 
he  would  go  no  further  up,  I  suppose  thinking  that 
his  congregation  had  still  further  need  of  his  serv- 
ices. Well,  the  sky  being  perfectly  clear,  the  sight 
was  beyond  expression — 175  miles  all  around. 
Half  a  dozen  cities  in  view.     And  such  a  pano- 

[  59  ] 


LETTERS 

rama!  Not  the  least  striking  was  the  mass  of  hu- 
manity sliding,  not  walking,  below,  looking  like 
puppets;  the  horses,  the  size  of  dogs. 

Yesterday,  Sunday,  I  went  to  see  the  crowd — 
350,000  within  the  grounds.  You  remember  Third 
Street  when  Cleveland  came  to  St.  Paul.  Imagine, 
then,  what  it  is  here.  A  most  good  humored 
crowd,  speaking  all  languages,  even  French.  No 
coarseness  anywhere,  no  swearing  (I  have  heard 
but  one  oath  since  in  Paris ) ,  and  not  one  drunken 
man.  And  to  see  the  amount  of  wine  thev  drink 
at  their  meals,  men  and  women  alike!  As  for 
whiskey,  I  think  there  is  none  in  Paris.  No  strong 
liquors  are  drunk  except  a  thimbleful  of  brandy 
in  coffee  after  dinner.  That  is  what  we  do.  The 
pictures  give  you  no  idea  of  what  the  Exposition 
is.  Oh!  I  wish  I  were  rich!  What  beautiful  ex- 
pensive objects  I  would  bring  you.  This  morning 
I  saw  a  pot  of  china  wild-flowers,  single  poppies, 
ragged  sailors,  oats,  grasses,  more  delicate  than 
any  artificial  flowers  1  ever  saw.  I  wanted  to  ask 
the  price  but  when  I  saw  the  next,  a  modest  little 
bouquet,  marked  "bought  by  the  Bey  of  Tunis,"  I 
thought  that  if  a  sovereign  could  afford  to  buy 
only  a  little  posy,  I  ought  not  to  buy  one  costing 
a  hundred  times  more.  T  had  intended  it  for  you. 
Thank  me. 

We  saw  America's  exhibits.  They  are  no  credit 
to  the  U.    S.     The    smallest    southern    republic 

[  60] 


c 
y. 


H 
E 


LETTERS 

makes  a  much  better  show.  Tiffany  and  Edison 
have  saved  the  country's  reputation.  Tiffany  had 
the  highest  award,  one  grand  prize,  besides  four 
gold  medals.  As  for  Edison,  he  has  received  the 
cross  of  Commander  of  the  Legion  of  Honor,  the 
highest  given  to  foreigners.  He  and  Eiffel  are 
the  two  great  men  of  the  Exposition. 

Oh,  dear!  I  wish  you  were  here.  I  can't  de- 
scribe what  I  see.  Truly  if  Adam  and  Eve  had  had 
such  a  beautiful  place  to  live  in,  they  would  have 
thought  twice  before  eating  the  apple. 

I  suppose  you  wish  to  know  how  my  health  is, 
since  you  think  I  came  for  my  health.  Well,  my 
yellow  skin  is  gone,  it  has  turned  into  healthful 
pink;  I  eat  three  heavy  meals  a  day,  and  want 
more.  On  the  steamer  I  ate  four  meals,  and 
Father  Caillet  five.  I  did  not  miss  one  during  the 
whole  passage,  which  was  splendid.  Consequent- 
ly, I  am  growing  fat,  and  Father  Caillet,  fatter. 
He  looks  now  like  "un  petit  abbe"  of  old. 

Tonight  we  go  to  hear  Faust  at  the  Grand  Op- 
era.    Don't  you  wish  you  were  here! 

Give  my  respects  and  love  to  all,  not  forgetting 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sam. 

Your  affectionate  old  slave, 

A.  Chemidlin. 


[  61   ] 


LETTERS 

XI 

Lyons,  29th  Oct.,  1889. 

Miss  Elsie  Shawe, 

East  Ninth  Street, 
Opposite  St.  Mary's  Church — St.  Paue. 

Dear  Elsie: 

I  have  received  both  your  letters  and  also  that 
of  Mary.  I  cannot  tell  you  how  pleased  I  was  in 
reading  them  as  the)'^  brought  me  back  to  home.  It 
does  one  so  much  good  to  feel  that  he  is  not  forgot- 
ten by  those  he  has  left  behind,  and  whose  friend- 
ship he  prizes  so  dearly.  Yes,  Elsie,  you  can  nev- 
er realize  how  much  I  think  of  you,  how  I  appre- 
ciate you  for  your  untiring  devotedness  to  all  the 
work  I  am  interested  in.  Such  a  friend  as  you 
are  to  me,  all  tlie  sights  and  pleasure  in  the  world 
could  never  make  me  forget.  I  have  visited  the 
grandest  Exposition.  Its  proportions  surpass  all 
I  could  imagine  of  the  kind.  One  scarcely  needs 
to  travel  after  being  there.  For  not  only  do  you 
find  all  the  modern  works  of  art,  all  that  man's 
genius  has  produced  in  the  way  of  machinery,  all 
that  exists  in  the  way  of  luxury  and  comfort,  etc., 
but  also  all  the  various  specimens  of  the  human 
race.  It  is  another  Pentecost,  only  the  Holy  Spirit 
is  not  there,  but  another!  No,  not  even  in  the 
churches  we  have  visited!  One  would  almost 
think  that  the   spirit  of   God   has   deserted   them, 

[  62  ] 


LETTERS 

there  is  such  coldness  and  lack  of  devotion  in  the 
services.  We  were  one  Sunday  in  the  Madeleine 
and  the  other  in  the  Trinity,  and  heard  not  a  word 
from  the  pulpit.  Why?  I  do  not  know.  It 
seemed  as  though  the  priests  were  afraid  to  speak 
or  even  to  offer  the  Divine  Mysteries,  and  that  the 
briefest  way  was  the  best.  We  attended  a  solemn 
High  Mass  which  took  45  minutes,  and  a  low  Mass 
which  took  20.  Oh,  give  me  St.  Paul,  and  in  St. 
Paul  St.  Mary's,  and  even  if  I  am  an  interested 
party,  I  will  say  that  I  would  not  exchange  our 
humble  church  and  our  choir  for  the  grandest 
church  in  Paris. 

Uncle  has  gone  to  Lorraine,  and  my  nephew  and 
I  have  come  down  to  Lyons.  It  is  raining,  and  I 
am  not  sorry,  for  it  keeps  me  in  and  enables  me  to 
write  to  you.  Then  again,  it  rests  me  as  we  have 
been  on  our  feet  enough  to  tire  any  kind  of  feet. 
My  nephew's  wife  is  very  lovely,  and  so  kind  to 
me.  The  children  are  made  of  quicksilver  and  gun- 
powder, but  are  the  most  interesting  and  preco- 
cious children  I  have  met  with.  They,  of  course, 
think  everything  of  their  Uncle,  too  much  in  fact, 
as  they  have  already  worn  out  my  face  with  kisses. 

When  Mr.  Chemidlin  comes  from  his  visit  we 
shall,  after  a  few  days  spent  with  him  in  Lyons, 
proceed  south,  and  on  with  the  second  part  of  our 
journey,  which  is  Spain.     Uncle  asked  me  to  re- 

[   63  ] 


LETTERS 

member  him  to  yourself  and  family  and  promised 
to  write. 

Give  my  love  to  all  at  home;  remember  me  to 
Mr.  McLachlan ;  tell  Fr.  Conry  that  I  have  found 
his  letter  in  Lyons,  and  will  write  to  him,  and  give 
my  kindest  regards  to  all  the  members  of  St. 
Mary's  choir.  Tell  Mrs.  Smith  that  I  do  not  for- 
get her,  and  that  my  nephew's  wife  is  delighted 
with  the  nice  little  cup  I  brought  from  your  house, 
and  wishes  me  to  thank  you  for  her.  She  finds  it 
to  be  a  little  wonder.  To  your  dear  self,  you  know 
that  I  remain  your  very  affectionate  in  Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 


XII 


Grand  Hotel  de  Paris, 

Madrid, 
24th  November,  1889. 

Mrs.  James  J.  Hill, 
St.  Paul. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hill  : 

We  are  now  in  Madrid  after  a  very  pleasant 
journey;  and,  notwithstanding  tliat  Mr.  Chemidlin 
still  complains  of  cold,  I  am  of  the  opinion  that  it 
is  with  him  rather  a  personal  matter  and  not  the 
fault  of  the  country  so  much.  To  say  that  I  am 
well  would  not  be  correct,  for  I  am  better  than 

[  64  ] 


LETTERS 

well  and  able  to  enjoy  everything,  even  the  dis- 
comforts unavoidable  in  a  journey  of  this  kind. 

We  enjoyed  our  stay  at  Lourdes  exceedingly. 
We  had  very  fine  weather  and  a  most  agreeable 
ramble  in  the  mountains.  But  above  all,  there  is 
something  so  soothing  and  refreshing  in  the  mem- 
ory of  the  events  which  took  place  there,  and 
which  is  kept  green  by  the  sight  of  the  faith  and 
devotion  which  are  displayed  constantly,  that  one 
cannot  help  being  influenced  thereby. 

Madrid  is  at  first  somewhat  disappointing,  hav- 
ing a  common  appearance;  but  after  a  closer  in- 
spection, one  likes  it  better.  Its  parks  and  many 
of  the  new  residences  are  perfectly  beautiful.  As 
to  its  galleries  of  paintings,  they  surpass  any  oth- 
er collection  in  the  world  for  the  profusion  of  its 
gems  of  the  old  and  best  masters.  Of  course,  we 
are  not  able  to  criticize  and  to  judge,  and  I  am 
glad  we  are  not,  for  we  might  well  spend  all  our 
time  in  the  Royal  Museum  and  then  we  would  be 
only  beginning. 

Tomorrow  we  go  to  the  Escurial,  about  thirty 
miles  from  here,  and  will  return  in  the  evening.  We 
intend  to  leave  on  Friday  for  south  Spain,  and, 
after  visiting  some  of  the  most  interesting  points, 
will  sail  for  Algiers. 

We  frequently  speak  of  Mr.  Hill,  yourself  and 
the  children,  and  wish  he  could  see  the  same  things 
we  see,  as  he  would   be  able  to   enjoy  them   even 

[  65  ] 


LETTERS 

more  than  we  do,  and  would  be  able  to  appreciate 
them  so  much  better. 

Mrs.  Hill,  I  am  very  glad  to  have  undertaken 
and  made  this  tour,  on  account  of  the  physical  ben- 
efit which  I  have  every  reason  to  expect  from  it, 
and  also  for  making  me  realize  how  much  I  think 
of  the  friends  I  have  left  in  St.  Paul,  and  how  hard 
it  would  be  to  induce  me  to  leave  them  again,  even 
with  the  most  favorable  expectations. 
1  remain  very  sincerely  yours, 

L.  Caillet. 

XIII 

Alhambra,  Nov.  30,  1S89. 

Miss  Clara  Hill, 
St.  Paul. 

Cara  Mia: 

Truly  the  land  of  enchantment.  Imagine  a  pal- 
ace of  the  Arabian  Nights  at  the  top  of  a  low 
mountain,  itself  at  the  foot  of  the  snow-covered 
Sierra  Nevada,  the  highest  part  of  it  twenty  miles 
off,  but  which  seems  only  two  miles.  On  the 
north  side,  far  below,  and  joined  to  the  Alhambra 
by  an  avenue  surpassing  any  at  Versailles,  white, 
glittering  Grenada  with  its  numerous  old  minarets 
and  towers,  and  beyond,  an  immense  plain  sur- 
rounded by  the  Sierra  Elvira,  dotted  all  over  with 
white  farm  houses;  with  Santa  Fe,  the  headquar- 

[  66  ] 


LETTERS 

ters  of  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  during  the  siege  of 
Grenada,  in  full  view.  Add  to  that,  such  an  at- 
mosphere as  Corot  delighted  to  paint.  No  wonder 
the  Moors  shed  tears  of  blood  when  they  had  to 
leave  this  earthly  paradise,  and  that  so  many  of 
them  preferred  becoming  Christians  rather  than 
return  to  Africa.  No  one  can  describe  the  Alham- 
bra,  and,  of  coiu-se,  I  won't  attempt  it.  We  had 
our  beautiful  countenances  taken,  leaning  against 
the  Court  of  Justice  and  looking  at  the  fountain 
of  lions,  with  the  Court  of  the  Abencerages  on  our 
left.  For  the  last  two  days  we  have  been  going 
from  enchantment  to  enchantment  until  I  am 
bursting,  and  this  rigmarole  is  the  consequence. 
But  Father  Caillet  has  not  his  fill  yet,  and  he  has 
gone  for  a  last  walk  whilst  I  am  discharging  my 
enthusiasm  at  you.  His  company  is  very  pleasant, 
of  course,  but  how  many  times  within  the  last  two 
days  I  have  wished  to  have  some  one  of  you  to 
rave  with  me.  He  is  so  quiet  in  his  enjoyment 
that  I  am  disgusted  with  him.  It  is  selfish  to  en- 
joy things  within  yourself,  without  imparting 
your  delight  to  others.  When  you  make  your 
"grand  tour"  (may  I  be  with  you  then)  this  will  be 
of  all  places  the  one  to  visit  in  May.  I  am  told 
this  is  the  worst  time  to  visit  here,  and  yet  now 
pomegranates,  figs,  oranges,  olives,  hang  on  the 
trees.  Think  a  little.  Hedges  of  cacti  and  aloes 
ten  feet  high.     One  of  myrtle  nine  feet  thick  and 

[  67] 


LETTERS 

five  feet  high,  trimmed  smooth  as  a  wall.  I  do  not 
know  which  to  admire  most,  the  work  of  man  or  the 
work  of  nature.  Now,  I  am  going  to  tell  you 
something  which  must  not  be  repeated,  and  which 
you,  not  being  yet  a  full  grown  woman,  won't  re- 
peat. Father  Caillet  and  I  had  a  gypsy  dance  for 
our  special  benefit.  There  are  between  four  and 
five  thousand  Gitanos  at  Grenada,  living  mainly 
m  the  inside  of  a  mountain  in  very  clean  grottoes. 
The  Gitanos  are  far  prettier  than  the  Spanish 
girls,  and  the  way  they  threw  kisses  at  Father 
Caillet  and  told  him  in  their  beautiful  Spanish 
that  he  was  beautifid,  made  me  jealous.  But  the 
best  of  all  were  Father  Caillet's  blushes.  But  my 
punishment  came.  Until  then,  I  had  been  boss  in 
our  wanderings.  He  has  since  then  taken  the 
chief  command. 

Our  trip  in  Spain  was  much  colder  than  I  ex- 
pected. It  is  a  dreary  country,  to  say  the  least. 
Madrid  resembles  all  other  capitals,  but  her  gal- 
lery of  paintings  is  the  first  in  the  world.  There  is 
hardly  one  that  is  not  a  masterpiece.  Would  not 
your  father  revel  in  that  gallery!  Never  any- 
where have  I  seen  such  beautiful  children  as  in 
Madrid.  We  were  on  the  Prado  on  Sunday  af- 
ternoon and  it  was  a  delight  to  watch  them.  I  tell 
you,  Walter  would  just  hold  his  own  amongst 
them,  and  that  is  all.  As  for  the  young  girls,  well, 
all  I  have  to  say  is  that  Charlotte  would  look  slim 

[  68  ] 


■X 
QD 


X 

o 


X 

X 


LETTERS 

alongside  of  them.  The  fact  is,  I  have  hardly  seen 
a  beautiful  woman  since  I  left  America,  except  at 
Nimes  in  the  south  of  France,  where  almost  every 
woman  you  meet  could  sit  for  a  model  to  an  artist. 

The  Escurial !  Brrrr — only  to  think  of  it  freezes 
me  to  the  bones.  A  tomb  of  granite.  A  city 
by  itself,  with  more  than  thirty  courts,  built  like  a 
gridiron.  And  the  church — the  noblest  pile  I  ever 
saw,  but  not  a  statue,  not  an  ornament;  a  stupen- 
dous cross  cut  in  the  rock.  It  crushed  you,  and  you 
leave  it  with  your  heart  in  your  boots.  And  as 
you  get  out,  what  do  you  see  far  below?  A  valley 
covered  with  millions  of  white  granite  boulders, 
with  here  and  there  black  looking  ohve  trees,  which 
at  that  distance  look  like  hooded  monks  contem- 
plating death.  We  were  glad  to  leave  and  we  re- 
turned to  Madrid  after  dark.  In  the  compartment 
with  us,  in  front  of  Father  Caillet,  was  the  Bishop 
of  Toledo.  And  what  do  you  think  Father  Cail- 
let did?  Pie  snored  during  the  two  hours  it  took 
us  to  return  (and,  helas!  I  can  tell  you  he  can 
snore  as  no  man  can ) ,  and  not  only  snored  but  kept 
his  mouth  open  to  its  fullest  extent.  And  that  in 
front  of  a  Bishop!  That  man  has  no  human  re- 
spect. 

From  Madrid  we  went  to  Cordova,  the  most 
Moorish  city  in  Spain.  There  is  hardly  any  street 
where  two  carriages  can  cross  each  other,  so  the 
streets  are  marked  in  such  a  way  that  carriages  go 

[  69] 


LETTERS 

only  in  one  direction.  True,  carriages  are  very 
scarce — all  donkeys.  The  mosque  is  a  magnificent 
building.  Think  only,  over  one  thousand  col- 
umns, all  marble,  brought  from  all  parts  of  the 
world.     It  is  a  forest. 

Cadiz,  Dec.  5th. 

Waiting  for  the  boat  to  take  us  to  Tangiers. 

It  was  too  bad.  The  cathedral  was  all  scaf- 
folded. An  earthquake  sometime  ago  shook  it 
very  badly.  So  all  we  could  see  in  the  capital  of 
Andalusia  was  the  Alcazar,  which  is  not  equal  to 
the  Alhambra,  by  a  long  shot,  as  James  would  say. 
So  we  hurried  to  Cadiz  as  fast  as  possible,  follow- 
ing the  valley  of  the  beautiful  Guadalquiver.  The 
cleanest,  neatest,  prettiest  city  in  Spain,  and  that 
is  all. 

December    (lost    the  date),    Tangiers. 

The  approach  very  picturesque,  rising  on  both 
sides  of  a  gully.  The  houses  as  white  as  snow.  But 
the  dirty,  nasty,  stinking  Moors — Pouah!  We 
left  two  days  ago  and  I  have  yet  the  stench  in  my 
nostrils.  The  widest  streets  are  just  about  wide 
enough  for  two  donkeys  to  pass  each  other,  you, 
and  another  one.  1  was  going  along  when  came 
towards  me  a  truly  splendid  Jewess  (the  only  good 
looking  people  here),  straight  as  an  arrow,  grand 
figure,  looking  proudly  straight  before  her;  as  she 
passed  I  turned  to  see  her  as  long  as  possible. 
Well,  T   turned   and  came  literally   face   to   face 

[  70  ] 


LETTERS 

with  a  camel.  The  camel  was  not  the  most  aston- 
ished of  the  two,  but  my  nose  was  the  worst  of  the 
three. 

The  JNToorish  women  are  horrible  to  look  at — 
each  a  large  bundle  of  clothes.  They  don't  always 
hide  their  faces,  but  their  legs  are  bare  to  the 
knees;  such  clubs!  And  their  feet!!  "Horribihs, 
ingens."  As  for  the  men,  they  are  the  worst  gang 
of  ruffians  I  ever  saw.  To  think  of  the  builders 
of  the  Alhambra  and  of  the  Alcazar,  and  their  de- 
cendants!  Allah  on  Allah,  Mohammed  re(;oul 
Allah. 

December  10th,  Oibraltar. 

Yqty  neat  city.  It  reminds  one  of  a  French 
provincial  city.  Nothing  to  see  but  guns  and 
forts,  forts  and  guns.  But  what  beautiful  walks 
up  and  down  that  rock!  Imagine  a  solid  stone, 
two  miles  long,  not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide  and 
rising  to  1400  feet.  Oh!  the  flowers  in  the  parks. 
It  is  gorgeous.  But  the  best  is,  that  Fall  and 
Spring  flowers  are  mixed  together.  The  rock  it- 
self is  clothed  with  the  most  beautiful  wild-flowers, 
amongst  which  the  scarlet  geranium  hanging  in 
festoons,  the  narcissus,  the  sweet  alyssum  and 
many  others  that  I  never  saw. 

Well!  We  leave  tomorrow  for  Malaga,  and 
then  Melilla  in  Morocco,  then  Oran,  Algiers,  Tun- 
is, Malta  and  Cairo.    We  are  going  to  hurry  so  as 

[  71  ] 


LETTERS 

to  be  at  Bethlehem  for  midnight  Mass  at  Christ- 
mas.    But  I  am  afraid  we  won't  make  it. 

The  weather  on  the  Mediterranean  now  is  the 
same  as  it  is  in  Minnesota  in  June.  Not  too 
warm.  But  have  I  not  been  cold,  though,  since  I 
left  New  York!  In  France,  until  I  got  south  of 
Lyons  I  did  nothing  but  shiver.  In  the  south  of 
France,  it  was  just  pleasant,  and  at  Lourdes,  at  the 
foot  of  the  Pyrenees,  the  gorges  of  the  mountain 
were  full  of  wild-flowers.  But  when  once  in  Spain, 
I  shivered  worse  than  ever.  But  now  I  am  in 
Paradise,  and  Father  Caillet  is  in  a  sweat  all  the 
time,  so  he  is  growing  thin  at  last.  As  for  me,  you 
would  hardly  know  me,  if  it  was  not  for  my  nose. 
What  happiness  to  have  good  health!  Almost  all 
the  sour  lines  are  gone  out  of  my  face.  We  have 
had  a  great  deal  of  enjoyment  and  expect 
much  more.  And  yet,  sometimes  in  the  long 
evenings  I  catch  myself  longing  for  St.  Paul, 
which  shows  that  one  cannot  be  entirely  happy. 

And  now,  my  dear  conscience,  I  hope  to  find  a 
good,  long  letter  from  you  at  Algiers  where  we  ex- 
pect to  find  lots  of  them.  Since  we  left  Madrid 
we  have  heard  nothing  from  home.  I  hope  my 
letter  from  Paris  did  not  bother  you  too  much  to 
read.     Give  my  love  to  all. 

Yours  with  affection, 

A.  Chemidlin. 


[  72  ] 


LETTERS 


XIV 


Grand  Hotel  de  Paris, 
.   Cadiz, 
5th  Dec,  1889. 

Mrs.  J.  J.  Hill, 
St.  Paul. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hill: 

We  will  not  be  able  to  say  a  great  deal  about 
Spain,  our  stays  in  the  various  places  having  been 
shortened  by  the  severity  of  the  weather.  Another 
drawback  is  the  ignorance  of  the  language,  which 
prevents  one  from  being  with  the  people  and  see- 
ing more  of  their  inner  life.  On  the  whole,  I  think 
that  there  is  much  to  like  about  the  Spaniards,  but 
that  they  are  very  poorly  governed;  and  particu- 
larly that  the  poor  classes  are  not  helped  to  help 
themselves.  There  is  much  too  much  begging,  but 
even  in  doing  it  the  Spaniard  preserves  some  of 
his  self-respect.  I  was  very  sorry  to  hear  of  the 
accident  to  James,  but  am  glad  to  judge  that  there 
is  nothing  serious  for  the  future,  as  he  continues 
with  his  studies.  Please  remember  me  to  both  him 
and  Louis.  Mr.  Chemidlin  is  much  improved  and 
I  trust  that  he  will  continue  to  do  well.  I  be- 
lieve that  the  trip  will  not  only  have  contributed 
to  his  happiness  but  will  add  to  his  life  and  improve 
his  comfort.  Tomorrow  we  will  take  the  steamer 
for  Tangiers,  Algiers  and  Tunis.  At  that  point, 
the  journey  to  Egypt  and  the  Holy  Land  will  be 

[  73  ] 


LETTERS 

decided,  one  way  or  the  other.  Much  will  depend 
on  Mr.  Chemidlin's  condition  of  health,  and  what 
we  may  learn  about  advantages  and  disadvantages 
of  the  trip.  For  myself,  I  would  rather  linger  in 
Italy  and  the  south  of  France  than  rush  among  the 
Arabs  and  wade  through  the  sands  of  Africa,  and 
rest  riding  on  mules  and  asses.  But  Uncle  loves 
the  prospect.  I  have  only  to  hope  for  him  that  it 
is  not  distance  that  lends  enchantment.  On  the 
whole,  I  am  very  glad  to  have  visited  Spain  even 
imperfectly  and  would  not  have  given  up  the  trip 
notwithstanding  its  drawbacks,  had  I  known  them 
beforehand.  This  part  is  now  over  and  I  am  glad 
of  it  because  it  is  that  less  time  that  I  shall  remain 
away  from  my  friends;  for  I  have  often  felt  lone- 
some after  them,  and  it  sometimes  takes  the  recall- 
ing of  the  motives  which  moved  me  on  to  this  trip 
not  to  make  me  feel  an  idler,  and  even  with  all 
this  I  do  feel  one  anyway. 
I  remain  very  sincerely  yours  in  Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 
With  mille  biens  choses  on  the  part  of  Uncle. 


[   74  ] 


LETTERS 


XV 


Tangier,  Mo>-occo, 
7th   Dec,  1889. 

JMiss  Shawe, 
St.  Paul. 

My  Dear  Children  : 

This  letter,  will,  I  hope,  reach  you  by  Xmas,  and 
bear  to  you  my  most  cordial  greetings.  Yes,  I 
wish  you  all  a  Merry  Christmas  and  a  Happy  New 
Year.  First  of  all  to  your  dear  Mother;  let  me 
hope  and  pray  that  she  may  be  able  to  so  arrange 
matters  that  she  may  enjoy  peace  with  more  com- 
fort. If  what  I  wish  does  happen,  I  know  that 
you  will  all  be  first  sharers  of  those  earthly  favors. 

We  are  here  in  Tangier  and  do  hope  to  leave  it 
tomorrow  after  Mass.  I  can  only  repeat  what  I 
have  said  to  Fr.  Conry  about  this  place.  When 
you  see  it  from  the  bay  it  presents  a  very  pleasing 
appearance;  its  white  houses  topped  with  nice  flat 
roofs,  all  rising  one  above  the  other,  seem  to  invite 
you  to  enter  its  walls;  but  all  this  is  fraud  and  de- 
ception; no  sooner  you  enter  its  streets  so-called 
than  you  feel  most  sadly  disappointed.  The  filth 
of  the  street,  or  rather  lane,  is  only  surpassed  by 
that  of  the  human  beings  who  are  endeavoring  to 
fight  their  way  through,  with  scores  of  donkeys 
loaded  with  stones,  wood,  vegetables,  water,  etc., 
etc.     Then  the  smell,  oh,  what  a  stench!     Some- 

[  75  ] 


LETTERS 

thing  truly  indescribable  and  never  to  be  forgotten. 
What  is  more  strange  is  that  every  one  I  have  seen 
who  has  been  there  has  been  as  anxious  to  leave  as 
we  are,  and  yet  would  not  have  missed  it  for  the 
disagi-eeableness.  Neither  would  we!  We  have 
seen  what  we  shall  meet  nowhere  upon  our  journey, 
— the  true  Oriental  life,  not  as  we  have  it  in  ro- 
mances but  in  reality;  and  in  the  midst  of  all  this, 
you  meet  the  real  patriarchal  life  we  read  of  in  the 
Bible.  I  do  not  mean  in  religion,  but  in  customs, 
looks,  habits,  etc.  Yesterday  and  today  we  loiter- 
ed through  the  streets  and  market  places,  losing 
our  way  through  the  maze  of  lanes,  but  discovering 
something  new  every  time.  It  was  really  more  in- 
teresting than  picture  galleries,  and  I  suppose 
more  bearable  because  we  are  getting  a  little  used 
to  the  drawbacks  I  have  spoken  of. 

I  received  Alice's  letter,  and  I  had  answered  a 
few  days  before  a  telegram  which  her  letter  ex- 
plained. I  did  not  write  but  will  before  the  awful 
event  takes  place.  This  letter  is  for  you  all,  and 
I  beg  of  you  to  excuse  its  incoherence,  as  I  am 
writing  it  under  difficulty,  the  room  being  occupied 
by  people  who  distract  me  with  their  talk. 

Tomorrow  we  leave  for  Gibraltar,  where  we  will 
wait  for  the  steamer  that  is  to  take  us  to  Oran, 
where  we  will  take  the  cars  for  Algiers.  We  ex- 
pect to  be  there  for  tomorrow  week  and  to  remain 
for  sometime  to  rest  if  the  weather  is  pleasant. 

[  76] 


LETTERS 

Uncle  sends  mille  choses,  and  is  very  well,  although 
lonesome  today.  He  wants  ease  and  sunshine,  also 
the  beauties  of  nature — and  such  are  not  met  every- 
where nor  every  day  on  a  journey  like  this.  As 
for  me,  I  find  what  I  sought,  viz.,  perfect  rest  from 
my  usual  work,  and  although  I  often  long  for  it 
and  my  home  and  friends,  I  am  perfectly  satisfied 
to  remain  till  the  time  is  over. 

Please  give  my  best  greetings  for  a  Merry  Xmas 
to  Mr.  McLachlan  and  all  the  members  of  the 
choir,  and  tell  Mr.  Nilson  how  thankful  I  am  that 
he  will  find  it  convenient  to  remain  an  active  mem- 
ber of  St.  Mary's  choir. 

Mary,  I  was  very  glad  to  receive  your  letter  but 
missed  the  photographs  that  were  not  within. 
Uncle,  unfortunately,  did  not  buy  the  kodak  he  in- 
tended to  buy,  so  he  will  have  no  pictures. 

Once  more,  a  Merry  Xmas  and  a  Happy  New 

Year! 

Your  friend  and  pastor, 

L.  Caillet. 


[  77  ] 


LETTERS 

XVI 

Algiers,  December  18,   1889. 

Mrs.  James  Markoe, 
St.  Paul. 

My  Dear  Mary: 

Here  we  are  amongst  Moors,  Arabs,  Jews, 
Maltese,  Turks,  Spaniards  and  what  not,  all 
screaming  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  dressed  in  all 
possible  and  impossible  garments,  fez,  turbans  of 
all  shapes  and  colors,  stove-pipe  hats,  derbies, 
straw-hats,  and  no  hats,  blankets,  winding  sheets, 
rags  and  tags,  swallow-tails  and  caftans,  European 
pants  fitting  close  to  the  legs,  Turkish  pants,  each 
holding  three  bushels,  and  no  pants.  The  women 
covering  their  faces  up  to  the  eyes,  with  their  legs 
bare  to  the  knees,  and  such  monstrous  legs !  On  their 
feet,  sandals,  baboushes,  moccasins,  and  nothing. 
And  the  pandemonium  of  languages!  But  if  the 
sight  of  the  people  gives  you  the  nightmare,  the 
country  is  simply  marvelous.  Everything  is  green 
as  in  Minnesota  in  July.  Potatoes  and  all  vege- 
tables are  being  planted,  are  in  bloom,  are  ripe. 
And  the  flowers!  Oh,  the  flowers!!  Would  not 
your  mother  revel  amongst  them.  Morning-glor- 
ies, four  o'clocks,  the  dear  little  double  daisies, 
scarlet  geraniums,  jonquils,  narcissus,  and  hun- 
dreds of  others  growing  wild.  And  in  the  gardens, 
such  gorgeous  sights!    Rose  trees  as  large  as  my 

[  78  ] 


LETTERS 

legs,  twenty  feet  high  and  covered  with  blooms. 
And  yet  they  tell  me  that  this  is  winter — that  we 
should  have  come  in  February  and  March. 

Biskra,  Sahara  Desert,  December  21,  1889. 

Just  as  I  was  writing  the  above,  Mr.  Moryo,  my 
sister-in-law's  cousin,  came  in  for  us  and  we  have 
been  on  the  go  ever  since.  Algiers  is  a  very  beau- 
tiful city  and  extremely  interesting.  Well,  we 
had  to  leave  it  and  take  to  the  Kabylia  mountains, 
a  ride  of  two  days  in  the  cars,  the  train  running 
nearly  up  to  the  snow  line.  First,  tropical  plants, 
then  olive  trees  only,  then  cedars,  then,  on  reaching 
the  plateau,  nothing  but  bare  fields,  and  rocks  with- 
out a  flower.  It  is  a  most  wonderful  country.  The 
Kabyles  are  quite  different  from  the  Arabs.  The 
women  do  not  cover  their  faces  as  the  Moors  do. 
Their  clothing  is  merely  a  long  piece  of  woolen 
cloth  Mith  a  hole  in  the  middle  for  the  head  and 
gathered  under  their  arms;  the  rest  falls  in  front 
and  behind,  so  that  when  the  wind  blows — well,  im- 
agine the  rest.  They  are  a  fine  set — Father  Caillet 
does  not  think  so.  But  what  a  sight  when  we  emerg- 
ed from  the  mountains,  through  a  short  tunnel  (a 
gate,  it  looked  like)  into  the  desert!  On  one  side, 
bleak  mountains,  low  clouds,  rain,  raw  wind;  one 
minute  after,  a  beautiful  clear  sky,  immense  date- 
tree  fields,  and  a  vast  expanse  of  desert.  It  was  a 
dream. 

What  do  you  think  of  going  to  Mass  in  the  Sa- 

[  79  ] 


LETTERS 

hara?  It  is  what  we  did  yesterday,  Sunday.  And 
a  beautiful  little  church  they  have  here.  The  city 
is  in  the  first  oasis,  with  over  one  hundred  thousand 
date-trees,  and  as  it  takes  very  few  trees  to  feed 
a  family,  the  Arab  population  is  large.  What  fun 
it  is  to  wander  and  lose  one's  way  in  the  innumer- 
able irrigation  ditches, — curs  barking  at  you, 
children  staring,  or  running  to  their  mammas,  ur- 
chins following  you  until  you  give  them  backshish, 
women  looking  slightly  from  behind  their  face  cov- 
ering, the  men  scowling,  or  appearing  indifferent. 
I  wish  some  one  of  you  were  here  to  enjoy  the 
sights. 

I  believe  I  have  not  written  since  Lourdes.  I 
was  rather  disappointed  with  Spain.  True,  the 
crossing  of  the  Pyrenees  was  grand,  but  the  other 
mountains  were  very  dreary  and  so  the  immense 
plains.  But  the  cities  were  very  interesting,  es- 
pecially Cordova  and  Grenada.  Gibraltar  was  as 
I  expected,  but  Tangiers,  in  Morocco!  Oh,  the 
nasty  stinking  city  and  people!  Pouah!  I  have 
the  stench  in  my  nostrils  yet.  But  yet  all  is  very 
picturesque.  But  in  Algeria  the  natives  are  much 
better  in  every  sense.  They  are  becoming  civihzed. 
They  work  in  the  city  and  country.  There  are 
lawyers,  doctors,  rich  merchants  amongst  them, 
even  officers  with  the  cross  of  honor.  And  how 
grandly  the  better  classes  wear  their  graceful  cos- 
tumes!    Unfortunately,  we  saw  no  women  of  the 

[  80  ] 


^^    -^«<^:^ — ' 


LETTERS 

better  class  in  the  streets.    They  are  entirely  con- 
fined in  the  harems,  and  men  are  not  allowed  there. 

Well,  we  start  tomorrow  for  Constantine,  and 
then  Tunis,  where  we  will  take  the  steamer  for 
Malta,  and  that  will  be  the  limit  of  our  eastern 
trip.  I  find  that  although  my  health  has  improved 
greatly,  yet  the  cause  of  my  ill  health  remains,  and 
I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  go  and  spend  a  month 
at  Carlsbad.  I  think  that  since  I  have  undertaken 
this  expensive  trip  for  my  health,  I  ought  to  do  all 
I  can  to  obtain  that  object.  It  breaks  my  heart 
not  to  see  Egypt  and  Jerusalem.  But  I  have  not 
the  time  and  the  money  to  do  all,  so  I  will  do  the 
most  necessary. 

Father  Caillet  agrees  perfectly  with  me,  and 
thinks  it  is  the  best  thing  I  can  do.  So  we  will  do 
Italy  thoroughly,  and  then  he  will  go  to  Lyons, 
stay  there  a  couple  of  weeks,  and  then  come  to  meet 
me  at  Carlsbad,  whence  we  will  start  for  Home, 
through  Germany,  Belgium  and  Paris.  So  you 
will  see  me  sometime  in  April. 

And  now,  my  dear  IVIary,  I  wish  you  all  a  Merry 
Christmas  and  happy  New  Year.  Give  my  love 
to  James  and  all,  and  kiss  the  babies  for  me.  I 
wish  you  could  kiss  the  dear  little  one  that  is  gone. 

Your  affectionate  Uncle, 

A.  Chemidlin. 


[  81   ] 


LETTERS 

XVII 

Tunis,  28th  Dec,  1889. 

Mrs.  John  S.  Prince, 
St.  Paul. 

Dear  Mrs.  Prince  : 

My  intention  was  to  have  written  to  you  from 
Biskra,  but  instead  I  sent  some  views  from  there, 
hoping  that  it  would  be  pleasing  to  see  that  in  the 
desert  we  still  thought  of  our  dear  friends  in  St. 
Paul.  Since  then  we  have  visited  Constantine  and 
Tunis.  Yesterday  was  a  precious  day  in  every  re- 
spect. First,  it  was  a  lovely  day.  We  had  charming 
weather.  Then  we  made  a  most  interesting  ex- 
cursion to  Carthage.  First  of  all,  to  the  chapel 
of  St.  Louis,  erected  on  the  spot  where  he  died,  a 
victim  to  the  disease  which  he  had  contracted  in 
waiting  on  his  dying  soldiers,  struck  with  the 
plague.  Then  T  had  the  happiness  of  offering  the 
Holy  Sacrifice,  and  Mr.  Chemidlin  that  of  waiting 
on  me  at  the  altar.  After  breakfasting  at  the  home 
of  the  White  Fathers  in  charge  of  the  chapel,  we 
proceeded  to  visit  their  museum  of  archeology,  con- 
sisting entirely  of  objects  found  on  the  spot.  It 
was  the  most  interesting  portion  of  our  excursion. 
The  Father  who  accompanied  us  was  the  collector 
himself  of  those  objects.  There  he  read  to  us  out 
of  those  inscriptions,  lamps,  coins  and  statues,  the 

[  82  ] 


LETTERS 

history  of  the  three  periods  of  the  famous  city 
which  once  made  Rome,  then  the  mistress  of  the 
world,  tremble.  We  saw  Carthage  as  she  was  in  her 
glory,  then  the  Carthage  as  rebuilt  by  the  Ro- 
mans, and,  finally,  the  Christian  Carthage.  Thus 
we  were  prepared  to  go  amid  the  ruins  that  had 
been  laid  open  from  the  bosom  of  the  earth  where 
they  had  lain  concealed  for  centuries.  Without 
this  preparation  we  would  have  seen  only  heaps  of 
stones,  broken  columns,  remnants  of  walls,  etc., 
which  we  could  not  have  understood.  But  thus 
prepared,  we  could  reconstruct  that  which  once 
was,  and  almost  see  Carthage.  Add  to  this  that  the 
spot  is  most  charming.  Situated  on  a  promontory, 
you  have  on  one  side  a  cape,  and  on  the  other,  the 
whole  expanse  of  the  sea,  on  another,  a  fine  lake, 
and,  as  a  background,  the  last  spurs  of  those  moun- 
tains of  Atlas.  What  a  splendid  site!  But  now 
instead  of  the  great  city,  nothing  but  her  burial 
ground!  We  took  our  lunch  at  the  foot  of  a  cross 
planted  where  the  body  of  a  martyr  had  been  found, 
and  discoursed;  you  may  well  imagine  the  thoughts 
which  the  scene  before  us  caused  to  rush  to  our 
minds. 

Tomorrow  we  shall  leave  for  Malta  and  thence 
for  Naples.  We  have  given  up  the  trip  to  Egypt 
and  Palestine,  which  would  have  proved  too  fatigu- 
ing, and  Uncle  will,  instead,  take  a  season  at  Carls- 
bad, while  I  will  visit  at  Lyons.  We  will,  of  course, 

[   83  ] 


LETTERS 

visit  the  principal  cities  of  Ital5^  My  health  leaves 
nothing  to  be  desired,  and  I  feel  perfectly  well,  al- 
though somewhat  lonesome  for  my  friends  in  St. 
Paul,  so  much  so,  that  were  it  not  for  the  object  I 
had  in  view  in  leaving,  viz.,  rest,  I  would  be  tempt- 
ed to  shorten  the  trip.  But  we  will  not.  Mr.  Che- 
midhn  has  improved  verj^  much,  indeed,  yet  I  feel 
satisfied  that  the  remedy  has  not  reached  the  root 
of  his  trouble  and,  therefore,  have  encouraged  his 
trip  to  Carlsbad.  He  is  always  cold  and  suffers 
from  over-fatigue  and  irregularities.  You  have 
no  idea  how  much  of  our  thoughts  and  talk  you  and 
your  beloved  family  occupy.  How  often  we  say, 
"Oh,  how  Mrs.  Prince  would  enjoy  this,  and  Fan- 
ny and  Grace."  As  for  dear  Mr.  Prince,  we  know 
also  what  he  would  hke,  and  say  to  one  another 
what  we  fancy  he  would  himself  say.  Tell  him 
how  pleased  I  was  with  the  very  kind  and  nice  let- 
ter he  wrote  me.  Give  my  love  to  John,  Fanny 
and  Grace,  and  when  you  write,  remember  me  also 
to  Nettie  and  family  and  to  dearest  Emma.  Con- 
gratulate her  for  me  on  that  little  one  God  has 
given  her,  and  tell  her  that  it  will  be  one  of  the 
pleasures  of  my  return  to  make  a  visit  to  the  new- 
comer. With  kindest  regards  to  all,  I  remain  very 
sincerely  yours  in  Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 


[   84   ] 


LETTERS 

XVIII 

Naples,  Jan.  12,  1890. 

Miss  Clara  Hill. 
My  dear  Clara: 

Just  returned  from  an  excursion  that  will  count 
in  my  life.  What  I  have  seen  will  forever  be  im- 
printed in  my  mind.  Not  even  the  Alhambra  nor 
the  Sahara  has  made  such  an  impression  on  me — 
4000  feet  above  the  sea — no  great  height  to  be  sure, 
but  such  a  glorious  view!  First,  below  my  feet, 
a  pandemonium  of  lava;  below,  villas,  vineyards, 
orange  orchards;  and  then,  far,  far  below,  the  ra- 
vishing Campania,  enclosed  by  more  mountains,  ex- 
tending 75  miles  away  on  the  left,  dotted  with  vil- 
las, villages  and  cities,  the  whole  looking  like  a  blue 
frozen  sea,  for  we  are  so  high  that  the  atmosphere 
below  looks  like  our  soft  blue  Minnesota  skies. 
Right  in  front,  Naples  rising  in  amphitheatre,  and 
on  the  left,  the  bay,  looking  also  like  blue  ice,  with 
black  dots  here  and  there,  like  decoy  ducks,  but 
which  are  the  little  sailing-boats  which  can  be 
counted  by  the  hundreds.  We  turn  around  the 
corner,  and  there  another  surprise  takes  your 
breath  away.  The  same  lava,  villas,  orchards  and 
vineyards  again,  and  then  Pompeii,  and  then  the 
glorious  bay  closed  by  Capri,  and  on  the  left, 
mountains  springing  from  the  water  with  Castella- 
mare  and  Sorrento  and  numerous  villages  clinging 

[   85  ] 


LETTERS 

to  its  base  for  protection.  (Ouf  I  what  an  old  fool 
I  am  with  my  youthful  enthusiasms.  Stop  that 
now!  don't  laugh  at  me.)  Anyway,  if  I  did  feel 
a  choking  in  my  throat  at  the  sudden  view,  a  Rus- 
sian lady  fairly  burst  out  crying,  and  her  husband 
fainted  at  the  brink  of  the  crater.  Was  it  fright? 
He  said  he  was  asthmatic. 

The  ride  from  Naples  in  a  carriage  to  the  cable 
took  us  four  delightful  hours,  and  then  the  cable, 
eight  minutes  of  delightful  or  extremely  painful 
sensations,  for  the  rise  is  70  degrees  I  suppose, 
twice  as  steep  as  St.  Anthony's  cable  ascent*,  and 
then  a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  easy  zigzag  road,  and 
then  the  hot,  soft  lava,  sulphuric  smoke  all  around, 
which  is  not  quite  up  to  violet  perfume,  and  then, 
leaning  on  the  arm  of  a  guide,  you  pick  your  way 
amongst  the  hot,  yellow  lava;  you  ascend  about  20 
or  30  feet  without  stumbling,  if  you  can,  and  then, 
Hell  spouting  fire  and  brimstone  and  stones  sever- 
al hundred  feet  high,  with  loud  explosions.  I  did 
not  stay  long,  for  fear  my  hat  might  get  hurt. 
Father  Caillet  would  not  come  at  all,  thinking,  I 
suppose,  his  life  was  more  valuable  than  mine. 

I  do  not  know  whence  I  wrote  to  you  last,  but  I 
know  that  I  wrote  to  the  boys  from  Malta  telling 
them  all  about  Africa.  And  by  the  by,  I  hope 
your  mother  has  received,  ere  now,  the  little  basket 

•Selby  Hill. 

[  86  ] 


LETTERS 

of  dates  I  sent  her  from  the  Sahara  as  a  Christmas 
card. 

Our  trip  through  Sicily  was  delightful.  S\Ta- 
cuse,  especially,  was  full  of  interest.  Think  a 
little.  Ruins  from  the  Greeks,  Carthaginians,  Ro- 
mans and  Spaniards.  The  most  interesting  is  a 
Greek  theatre  cut  entirely  in  the  rock.  The  audito- 
rium is  very  large,  composed  of  a  semicircle  of 
seats  cut  in  the  rock.  The  amphitheatre,  just  like 
a  circus,  and  the  stage,  very  large  also,  is  at  the 
bottom.     These  are  ruins  that  will  last  forever. 

And  then  the  flowers  everywhere.  At  the  foot 
of  Etna  (which  we,  unfortunately,  could  not  see) 
it  was  simply  gorgeous.  Yellow  flowers  enough 
to  satisfy  even  your  mother.  And  then  the  jon- 
quils, and  the  narcissus,  and  the  ranunculus,  and 
the  wild  fleurs-de-lys,  much  more  beautiful  than 
any  cultivated  I  have  seen.  Oh,  dear,  what  delight! 
Why  have  I  not  some  young  girl,  whom  I  have  in 
my  mind's  eye  now,  with  me  to  enjoy  it.  That 
horrible  Father  Caillet  I  am  perfectly  disgusted 
with.  All  I  can  get  out  of  him  is  a  kind  of  grunt 
of  satisfaction.  And  he  doesn't  even  often  make 
me  a  present  of  that.  Sometimes  I  feel  like  mur- 
dering him  for  his  want  of  outward  feeling.  What 
are  features  given  us  for,  if  they  are  not  to  be  the 
mirror  of  our  souls?  (Ouf !  there  is  another  explo- 
sion.    Have  pity.) 

To  come  here  from  Messina   (where  I  had  the 

[  87  ] 


LETTERS 

sweetest  oranges  I  ever  ate)  we  took  a  roundabout 
way.  We  followed  the  Mediterranean  for  a  whole 
night,  a  bright  moonlight  night,  the  sea  without  a 
ripple,  skirting  the  Calabrian  mountains.  I  could 
not  sleep  the  whole  night,  it  was  a  succession  of 
dreams  ( there,  there,  that  will  do ! ) .  In  the  morn- 
ing, we  crossed  the  range  to  Salerno,  and  then  a 
last  range,  through  the  most  beautiful  gorge  I  have 
yet  seen,  to  Naples.  We  did  not  meet  any  brig- 
ands. They  have  been  driven  into  the  cities  where 
they  lurk  around  hotels  and  museums.  They  don't 
take  your  life,  but  they  strip  you  of  all  your  change. 
They  go  under  different  names — guides,  coachmen, 
hotel  waiters,  maids,  portiers,  porters,  boot-blacks, 
railroad  employees,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.  I  was  very  much 
disappointed  in  Naples  itself.  They  are  trying 
to  make  it  a  modern  citv,  and  have  driven  out  the 
true  lazzaroni  and  left  nothing  but  the  out-and-out 
beggar.     Not  even  many  of  those. 

I  found  your  last  letter  here.  No  need  to  tell 
you  it  gave  me  much  pleasure.  I  hope  with  all 
my  heart  that  you  will  be  perfectly  well  on  my  re- 
turn, and  that  you  will  be  able  to  go  on  with  French 
with  renewed  energy.  For  the  more  I  go  the 
more  I  find  French  is  the  universal  language.  With 
it  you  can  go  and  be  understood  everywhere.  In 
Spain,  Africa,  Malta,  Italy,  it  is  all  the  same.  At 
table,  they  speak  good,  bad  and  indifferent  French. 
At  the  stations,  in  the  cars,  even  the  cabmen  will 

[  88  ] 


LETTERS 

give  you  no  trouble  if  you  speak  French  to  them. 
Going  up  the  Vesuvius  we  were  five.  Two  Rus- 
sians, one  German,  one  Italian  and  your  humble 
servant.  Well,  the  German  started  in  German ;  no 
one  understood  him.  The  Russian  attempted  a  lit- 
tle English.  I  took  him  up,  helped  him  along  a  little 
while,  but  it  was  no  go.  Finally,  I  asked  him  if  he 
could  speak  French.  He  did,  better  than  I.  His 
wife  did,  beautifully;  the  Italian,  pretty  well;  and 
finally,  that  rascally  Dutchman  had  to  succumb, 
and,  I  tell  you,  he  spoke  well.  Moral — study 
French. 

Of  course,  we  visited  the  ruins  of  Pompeii,  or 
rather  Pompeii,  for  you  cannot  call  it  ruins.  There 
you  see  Roman  life  such  as  it  was  at  the  time  of 
the  empire's  glory.  It  is  wonderful  how  little  new 
there  is  under  the  sun.  Their  household  was  very 
much  like  ours.  Their  kitchen  utensils  were  en- 
tirely ours,  their  surgical  instruments  were  very 
little  different,  and  their  dentists  used  just  as 
wicked  looking  instruments  as  they  use  now.  You 
have  to  see  these  remains  to  understand  that  the 
Romans  led  about  the  same  life  that  we  do.  Only 
they  were  nasty  brutes. 

Rome,  Jan.  12th. 

Father  Caillet  interrupted  me  in  my  last  effu- 
sions and  saved  you  from  another  four  page  inflic- 
tion, to  go  and  take  a  ride  to  Sorrento.  I  won't 
commence  about  it,  I  would  never  stop.  What  a 
ride!     Why  are  we  alone  to  enjoy  it? 

[  89  ] 


LETTERS 

We  are  here  for  about  two  weeks,  and  then 
northern  Italy,  and  then  Carlsbad — Lent  after 
carnival.  Why,  oh,  why,  doesn't  Mary  answer  my 
letter  from  the  home  of  the  Maid?  She  used  to 
care  more  for  me.  Give  her  and  Precious  and 
Precious'  father  and  all  the  family  my  love,  and 
receive  the  most  profound  respects  from  your  ab- 
ject slave, 

A.  Chemidlin. 

XIX 

Grand  Hotel  du   Quirinal, 
Rome, 
27th  January,  1890. 

Miss  Elsie  Shawe. 
Dear  Elsie: 

We  have  been  so  much  on  the  go  that  time  has 
gone  without  my  noticing  that  I  ought  to  write. 
In  Naples  I  had  a  delightful  little  letter  from  dear 
Alice,  which  I  shall  answer  at  the  first  opportunity. 
We  have  been  in  Rome  two  weeks  and  were  most 
favored  in  every  way.  First,  we  were  rceived  in 
private  audience  by  the  Holy  Father.  Think  of 
it,  Elsie!  To  be  alone  with  the  Representative  of 
Christ,  and  to  find  in  him  the  very  kindest  of  fath- 
ers. I  can  assure  you  that  I  did  not  miss  the  op- 
portunity to  obtain  his  blessing  for  myself  and 
for  the  works  entrusted  to  me,  and  still  more  es- 
pecially for  those  who  have  assisted  me  so  faith- 

[  90  ] 


LETTERS 

fully  in  attending  to  them.  You  know,  dear  child, 
by  this  that  you  were  present  before  my  mind  in 
a  most  special  manner,  with  Alice,  your  dear 
Mother,  sisters  and  brother.  Yesterday,  we  at- 
tended the  ceremonies  of  the  beatification  of  the 
venerable  Pompilius.  I  will  not  write  about  the 
sight  or  the  music.  It  was  beautiful  and  grand. 
Besides,  we  had  Benediction  of  the  Bl.  Sacrament 
given  by  the  Holy  Father  himself.  This  is  the 
second  time  we  had  the  opportunity  to  hear  the 
choir  of  the  Sistine  Chapel.  Of  this  we  will  talk 
when  I  am  home,  as  also  of  the  grand  Vespers  at 
which  I  was  present  in  the  Church  of  St.  Agnes. 

Today  we  leave  for  Florence,  where  we  will  re- 
main a  few  days.  We  are  on  our  homeward  trip 
and  I  am  glad  of  it,  although  it  will  take  all  the 
time  on  the  program  to  complete  it,  as  Uncle  in- 
tends to  spend  one  month  in  Carlsbad.  During 
that  time  1  shall  attend  to  business  in  France  and 
possibly  go  to  meet  him  there;  not  for  the  baths! 
Thank  God,  I  have  no  use  for  them,  as  I  am  per- 
fectly well,  and  have  no  need  of  the  horrid  treat- 
ment, which  I  abominate  anyway.  Uncle  is  very 
well  but  looks  with  horror  at  the  trial  before  him, 
and  it  would  not  take  much  persuasion  to  dissuade 
him  from  going.  This  I  will  not  do,  but  leave  it 
entirely  to  himself. 

So,  dear  Alice  is  now  Mrs.  Mclver,  yet  always 
Alice  for  me  and  never  will  be  anything  else.     I 

[  91  ] 


LETTERS 

am  so  glad  because  so  hopeful  that  she  will  be  hap- 
py !  Everything  leads  to  that  belief,  and  certainly 
I  have  prayed  that  it  may  be  so  or  not  at  all. 

You  do  not  say  much  about  matters,  I  mean 
business  matters  at  home;  for  I' suppose,  there  is 
very  little  to  say.  Winter  is  a  poor  time  to  dis- 
pose of  property,  but  I  hope  that  with  spring  there 
may  be  better  opportunities,  and  by  availing  your- 
selves of  them  the  ship  may  be  sighted  again,  and 
your  mother  freed  from  her  many  anxieties. 

When  you  see  Mrs.  Smith,  will  you  remember 
me  very  kindly  to  her,  and  tell  her  that  I  remember 
her  at  the  right  places. 

Well,  I  have  to  prepare  for  the  train,  so  will 
close  this  letter  with  the  assurance  of  the  affection 
with  which  I  remain  yours  in  Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 

Kindest  regards  to  all  at  home  and  inquiring 
friends,  especially  to  the  one  on  the  other  side  of 
the  street,  to  Mr.  McLachlan,  and  all  the  members 
of  the  choir. 


[  92  ] 


( 


-^««1^-. 
^!*».. 


GERTRUDE  HILL,  1889 


GRACE  PRINCE,  189G 


WALTER   HILL,  1889 


ALICE  SHAWE,  1889 


LETTERS 


XX 

LyoTU,  lit  March,  1890. 


Deak  Mrs.  Hill: 


Your  very  kind  letter  came  this  morning  just 
as  I  was  debating  with  myself  whether  or  not  I 
would  go  down  town.  The  matter  was  settled  with- 
out further  consideration.  I  am  glad  to  hear  that 
you  are  all  well,  and  that  the  influenza  has  spared 
your  family.  As  to  Mary,  I  hope  that  she  will 
soon  regain  her  former  strength  and  feel  again 
like  herself.  Please  remember  me  very  kindly  to 
her  and  to  her  husband,  without  forgetting  Mary 
the  fourth.  How  nicely  dear  Gertrude  writes  1  I 
was  perfectly  delighted  with  her  lovely  little  letter. 
Tell  her  I  will  not  fail  answering  it.  Mr.  Chemid- 
lin  has  gone  to  Carlsbad,  and  I  can  assure  you  that 
I  have  almost  regretted  having  assented  to  his 
proposition  of  going  to  take  those  waters  at  the  ex- 
pense of  Egypt  and  Palestine.  When  this  deci- 
sion was  come  at,  we  were  in  Algiers.  He  was 
tired  and  worn,  unable  to  endure  either  much  fa- 
tigue or  irregularity.  We  could  not  give  the  time 
for  both  journeys,  and  the  question  of  choice  was 
proposed  by  himself.  I  immediately  told  him 
that  the  choice  was  his,  and  that  I  would  gladly 
concur  in  anything  he  would  decide.  He  then  de- 
cided for  Carlsbad.  Since  then  he  has  been  im- 
proving very  much,  especially  the  last  few  weeks, 

[  93  ] 


LETTERS 

and  had  he  felt  as  well  when  in  Naples,  we  would 
have  changed  our  itinerary  and  sailed  for  Egypt. 
But  now  he  has  gone,  and  I  have  had  no  news 
from  him,  although  he  promised  to  write  as  soon 
as  he  would  have  consulted  the  physicians  there. 
I  could  have  gone  myself  to  the  East  while  he  is 
remaining  in  Carlsbad,  but  he  would  have  felt  bad- 
ly and  this  would  mar  my  own  pleasure ;  so  I  won't 
go,  notwithstanding  my  desire. 

Since  my  last  letter  to  you  we  have  gone  over 
much  ground,  having  been  in  Morocco,  Algeria  and 
Tunisia,  and  as  far  as  the  great  Sahara.  We  have 
visited  Malta,  Syracuse,  Messina,  traversed  the 
Calabrian  mountains,  seen  Naples  "and  did  not 
die,"  although  Uncle  came  near  doing  so  on  Mt. 
Vesuvius,  when  he  had  such  an  ecstacy  that  there 
must  have  been  a  doubt  for  a  moment  whether  he 
would  come  to  or  not.  But  he  did  survive.  We 
then  went  to  Rome.  Ah,  there  he  had  another  crit- 
ical moment.  This  was  while  visiting  the  ruins. 
I  really  thought  at  times  that  I  would  have  to 
leave  him  there  a  corpse  and  a  corpse  made  by  dis- 
gust. But  I  know  the  remedy  to  revive  him  every 
time:  flowers  and  a  good  fire.  Behold  the  pana- 
cea that  cures  him  from  all  fits  of  disappointment 
and  blue  moments.  We  visited  Florence,  Venice, 
Milan  and  Genoa.  Well,  our  trip  there  was  not 
a  perfect  success,  the  weather  being  cold  and  dis- 
agreeable.   But  in  Nice  we  came  very  near  making 

[  94  ] 


PS    = 

O 


z'.    i 


LETTERS 

shipwreck  among  flowers  and  sunshine.  Actually, 
I  thought  I  could  never  drag  Uncle  away,  so 
charmed  and  enraptured  he  was  with  masquerade 
processions,  battle  of  flowers,  etc.,  etc.  The  heavens 
came  to  the  rescue,  and  one  morning  we  beheld  the 
hills  around  Nice  clad  in  "the  beautiful,"  and  he 
was  at  last  persuaded  to  leave  the  mundanities  of 
Nice  and  the  breakers  of  Monte  Carlo.  We  came 
to  Lyons,  and  found  there  fog  enough  to  dampen 
all  his  juvenile  propensities;  also,  he  did  not  ex- 
actly care  to  remain  more  than  was  needed  to  have 
clothes  made  capable  of  enclosing  his  surplus  flesh ; 
for  with  all  due  respect,  his  person  was  no  longer 
contained  in  the  others.  He  actually  weighed 
twenty-one  pounds  more  than  he  did  when  at  the 
farm,  and  he  had  almost  to  lean  forward  to  behold 
his  pedal  extremities.  He  got  his  clothes  and  went, 
and  now  I  am  here  waiting  to  hear  from  him  before 
I  make  my  plans  homeward.  The  day  before  yes- 
terday I  had  a  letter  from  Mollie  in  which  she  told 
me  at  once  of  her  being  in  Paris,  of  her  visit  to 
Lyons  next  week,  and,  particularly,  not  to  forget 
the  new  name,  which  is  Madame  Edward  Fitz- 
gerald. You  may  well  think  how  careful  I  was 
not  to  direct  my  letter  to  Mollie  McQuillan,  Paris. 
I  hope  to  hear  from  her  again,  and  to  spend  next 
Tuesdav  with  her  and  her  husband,  which  will  be  a 
great  pleasure  to  me.  T  am  so  glad  that  Alice  has 
also  been  married,  and  that  to  Mr.  Mclver.     I  have 

[  95  ] 


LETTERS 

always  entertained  a  very  good  opinion  of  him,  be- 
cause I  knew  he  was  extremely  kind  to  his  mother 
and  also  to  his  sister.  Such  a  man  scarcely  ever 
fails  to  be  a  good  husband.  Then  you  know  how 
much  I  thought  of  Alice,  and  how  I  desired  that 
she  would  meet  a  good  husband.  Now,  I  thank 
God  that  He  has  granted  this  wish  of  mine,  and 
feel  certain  that  she  will  be  a  good  wife.  I  thank 
you  also  for  your  kind  attention  to  her  in  visiting 
her,  sure  as  I  am  that  your  kindness  will  do  her  as 
much  good  as  it  will  give  her  pleasure. 

Our  visit  in  Rome  will  never  be  forgotten  either 
by  Mr.  Chemidlin  or  myself.  Through  the  Prop- 
aganda, we  were  granted  a  private  audience  by 
the  holy  Father.  I  had  seen  and  spoken  to  him  be- 
fore, but  how  different  to  be  alone  with  him !  How 
kindly  he  asked  about  my  charge !  How  encourag- 
ing were  his  words!  You  may  be  assured  that  I 
did  not  forget  my  friends  while  with  him,  and  es- 
pecially yourself,  Mr.  Hill,  the  boys  and  all  the 
family.  My  trust  is  that  the  blessing  of  Christ's 
representative  on  earth  will  go  a  great  way  in  help- 
ing them  both  for  their  spiritual  and  temporal  wel- 
fare. When  we  returned  to  the  hotel  both  of  us 
had  the  same  idea,  expressed  it  in  the  same  words. 
If  only  Mr.  Hill  could  be  there,  how  he  would  ap- 
preciate such  a  man,  so  morally  powerful,  so  in- 
tellectual, and  at  the  same  time,  so  simple  without 

[  96  ] 


LETTERS 

the  least  ostentation,  so  fatherly  and  truly  the  serv- 
ant of  Christ's  servants. 

Yesterday  we  had  a  diminutive  snow  blizzard, 
and  in  Lyons  it  was  quite  unpleasant,  and  the  wind 
blew  quite  cold  during  the  night  and  this  morning. 
When  I  entered  the  sacristy  to  prepare  for  Mass, 
the  first  question  put  to  me  was  "Have  you  such 
cold  weather  in  your  country?"  When  I  looked 
at  the  report  in  the  morning  paper,  the  mercury  had 
gone  down  the  night  before  to  about  27  degrees 
above  our  zero,  and  I  felt  quite  comfortable. 

I  am  very  glad  to  hear  that  Clara  is  improving 
so  well,  and  hope  and  pray  that  the  treatment  she 
takes  may  be  entirely  successful.  Please  give  my 
kindest  regards  to  Mr.  Hill  and  my  love  to  all  the 
children.  Tell  Charlotte  that  Mr.  Chemidlin, 
knowing  her  eagerness  to  take  French  lessons,  will 
make  all  possible  speed  to  respond  to  her  yearnings, 
and  that,  if  she  wishes  it,  he  is  fully  prepared  to 
double  the  number  of  her  lessons.  As  to  Clara,  he  is 
firmly  determined  to  speak  nothing  but  German, 
and  for  this  end  will  devote  his  whole  time  to  the 
study  of  his  favorite  tongue,  and  has  strong  hopes 
of  succeeding,  with  the  help  of  salt  water,  beer  and 
sauerkraut.  He  ought  to,  since  in  every  place  he 
was  addressed  in  German,  placed  at  table  with 
them,  and  poor  me,  on  his  account,  taken  also  for 
a  Teuton. 

Well,  it  is  time  to  stop  all  this  nonsense  I  have 
been  writing  and  hope  you  will  agree  with  me. 

[  97  ] 


LETTERS 

Wishing  you  all  well,  and  hoping  to  be  with  j^ou 
all  very  soon,  1  remain  very  sincerely  your  friend 
in  Christ, 

L.  Caillet. 

Do  not  forget  to  remember  me  kindly  to  the 
boys  when  you  see  them. 

XXI 

Carlsbad,  March  5th,  1890. 

Miss  Clara  Hiix, 
Saint  Paul. 

My  Dear  Clara: 

Miserere  mei — De  profundis Dust  to  dust 

Four  glasses  of  abominable  water,  taken  at 


intervals  of  twenty  minutes,  commencing  at  seven 
in  the  morning,  the  intervals  filled  with  walking, 
with  the  thermometer  below  zero.  I  shall  turn  in- 
to a  naiade.  And  with  that,  a  diet  fit  for  an 
anchorite,  no  soup,  no  vegetables,  only  roast  meat, 
red  wine  ad  libitum,  but  mixed  with  that  nauseous 
water  (luckily  the  doctor  forgot  to  state  the  pro- 
portion), and  only  four  cigars  a  day!  What  is 
going  to  become  of  those  twenty-one  pounds  I 
succeeded  in  laying  on  my  old  bones  with  so  much 
labor?  They  felt  so  comfortable,  those  twenty- 
one  pounds,  and  they  are  already  showing  signs 
of  departure.     I  did  not  want  Carlsbad  to  give 

[  98] 


LETTERS 

me  peachy  cheeks,  I  had  them,  those  peachy 
cheeks,  and  how  can  bones  look  peachy  under  the 
skin?  Ah!  Father  Caillet,  you  have  to  answer  for 
it. 

But  the  villainous  trick  he  has  just  played  on 
me!  I  left  him  two  weeks  ago  at  Lyons.  He 
was  to  stay  there  about  two  weeks  and  then  come 
slowly  to  meet  me  here.  Do  you  know  what  he 
has  done?  Just  started  for  Nice  with  Tiny  Kel- 
ly, Molly  and  her  husband.  You  will  understand 
the  shabbiness  of  the  thing  when  I  tell  you  that 
he  would  hardly  stay  a  few  days  in  that  paradise, 
and  that  I  had  to  get  red  hot  before  he  would  stay 
for  the  battle  of  flowers.  He  was  in  a  hurry  to 
get  rid  of  me,  I  suppose.  And  now,  do  you  know 
what  he  writes?  After  Nice,  the  gentleman  will 
go  to  Paris  and  wait  for  me  there.  If  my  funds 
were  not  getting  low,  I  would  play  the  gentleman 
one  and  a  half  tricks  for  his  one.  But  he  won't 
lose  it. 

Was  it  not  from  Naples  I  wrote  to  you  last? 
Rome  disappointed  me,  and  surpassed  my  expec- 
tations. I  could  not,  like  Father  Caillet,  enthuse 
before  broken  heads,  arms,  legs  imbedded  in 
garden  walls.  The  ruins  left  me  cold.  True,  the 
Coliseum  must  have  been  magnificent  before  pal- 
aces were  built  of  its  stones,  and  the  bronze  coat- 
ing had  been  converted  into  money.  The  fact  is, 
what  remains  of  it  looks  grand.     Oh!  these  Ro- 

[  99  ] 


LETTERS 

mans,  I  have  always  hated  their  history.  A  nation 
of  robbers.  Romulus  and  Remus  were  chiefs  of  rob- 
bers. After  stealing  sheep,  they  stole  the  Sabine 
women.  Their  successors  became  robbers  of  na- 
tionalities. Then  after  losing  the  power,  they 
became  brigands  in  the  mountains,  and  now  they 
rob  the  travelers.  In  all  the  museums,  if  you  ask, 
"Whose  work  is  that?"  invariably  the  answer  is, 
"Greek."  True,  their  alto-relievos  are  full  of 
movement.  But  approach — there  is  no  beauty, 
no  delicacy  in  the  figures.     All  is  coarse. 

The  brick  ruins  of  the  palaces  are  dungeons, 
the  amphitheaters  tell  of  slaughter.  How  differ- 
ent the  remains  of  Greece! 

But  what  raised  my  enthusiasm  were  the  works 
of  the  Renaissance.  That  is  the  only  bright  page 
in  Italian  history.  What  immense  difference  be- 
tween Pagan  art  and  Christian  art!  The  Greek 
represents  the  most  beautiful  human  body  in  the 
most  perfect  manner,  but  there  is  no  soul.  Michael 
Angelo  and  his  almost-equals  cared  more  for  the 
soul  than  for  the  body.  Their  statues  are  cloth- 
ed, but  what  a  world  of  inspiration  in  the  faces  and 
postures.  If  you  could  see  the  Muses,  if  you  could 
see  St.  Cecilia  and  the  thousands  of  others  that 
people  the  churches  and  even  the  museums! 

As  for  the  paintings — too  bad!  another  one  of 
my  ideals  is   broken;   but   how  puny  the   French 

[   100  ] 


LETTERS 

school  of  painting  of  the  present  day  compared 
with  the  works  of  those  geniuses ! 

As  for  St.  Peter's,  well,  it  is  the  temple  to  sing 
the  "Gloria  in  Excelsis"  in,  as  the  church  of  the 
Escurial  is  fit  only  for  the  "De  profundis".  No 
doubt  Father  Caillet  described  in  one  of  his  letters 
to  your  mother  our  kind  reception  by  the  Pope, 
so  I  won't  repeat.  Florence  we  saw  at  its  best 
and  at  its  worst.  The  first  day  was  a  fine  June 
day;  after,  Oh!  it  was  cold.  Venice  cold,  Milan 
cold,  did  I  not  suffer  though!  But  as  soon  as  we 
reached  Nice,  everything  was  in  bloom.  We  got 
there  just  for  the  carnival.     My  dear,  if  you  ever 

want  to  go  to  paradise  before  dying 

(A.  Chemidlin) 

XXII 

St.  Paul,   May   J7,   1891. 

Miss  Claka  H[ll, 
Columbia  Heights, 
Brooklyn,  N.  Y. 

Ma  bien  chere  Clara: 

Charitable  comme  vous  I'etes,  je  suis  certain  que 
vous  me  pardonnerez  de  ne  vous  avoir  pas  repondu 
plus  tot.  N'allez  pas  croire  du  moins,  qu'il  m'a  fallu 
presque  deux  mois  pour  vous  composer  une  letter 
en  francais.  Non,  ce  n'est  pas  la  mon  excuse.  Le 
fait  est  que  je  n'en  ai  point  si  ce  n'est  mon  invet- 

[   101  ] 


LETTERS 

eree  paresse.  Et  cependant  9a  m'avait  fait  iin 
bien  grand  plaisir  de  voir  que  vous  pensiez  un  peu 
a  votre  vieil  ami,  et  j'aurais  du  vous  en  remercier 
en  vous  repondant  de  suite. 

Pendant  I'absence  de  Sam,  j'ai  passe  presque 
toutes  les  nuits  chez  Marie,  et  je  vous  assure  que 
je  suis  encore  devenue  plus  intime  avec  Mary 
Mendenhall,  si  cela  se  pent.  Elle  est  jolie  a  cro- 
quer,  parle  comme  luie  pie  (comme  une  certaine 
tante)  et  n'en  veut  faire  qu'a  sa  tete  (tou jours 
comme  cette  tante).  II  y  a  quelques  jours,  a  de- 
jeuner, elle  voulut  avoir  de  mon  cafe.  Sa  maman 
dit,  non!  Mademoiselle  fit  une  moue  et  dit, 
"Baby  go  to  grocery  and  buy  coffee."  Ca  promet. 
Elle  danse  comme  une  fee,  chante  comme  un  pin- 
son,  et  gronde  comme  sa  tante.  Vous  rappelez- 
vous  comme  vous  aviez  I'habitude  de  me  gronder, 
quand  je  ne  me  conduisais  pas  bien? 

Je  suis  charme  que  vous  m'ayez  ecrit  en  fran9ais, 
et  surtout  que  vous  I'ayez  fait  sans  grammaire  ni 
dictionnaire,  ce  qui  fait  preuve  de  beaucoup  de 
courasje. 

J'ai  bien  peur,  si  les  rapports  sont  vrais,  que 
notre  Charlotte  ne  soit  pas  encore  a  meme  de 
m'ecrire  dans  la  langue  que  j'aime.  La  Malheu- 
reuse!  Avec  son  accent,  qui  est  meilleur  que  le 
votre  (ne  vous  en  deplaise),  et  ses  talents,  elle 
aurait  fait  une  eleve  admirable.     II  faut  esperer 

[  102  ] 


LETTERS 

que  cela  viendra;  il  lui  sera  bien  facile  de  reparer 
le  temps  perdu. 

Les  nouveaux  domestiques  venus  d'Angleterre 
amusent  beaucoup  les  enfants  avec  leurs  "h's" 
ajoutes  et  retrancbes.  L'un  d'eux  demandait 
I'autre  jour,  si  Miss  111  etait  hill.  Le  malheureux 
voulait  dire  "Is  Miss  Hill  ill?" 

Je  crois  bien  qu'a  votre  retour  la  maison  sera 
presque  terminee.  Les  tableaux  sont  pendus, 
I'orgue  est  pose,  et  je  crois  qu'il  n'y  a  plus  que  le 
rez-de-chausse  a  terminer.  On  donne  les  der- 
nieres  touches  au  grand  salon  et  a  la  salle  de 
musique.  Ce  sera  merveilleux.  Devenez  vite 
jolies  afin  que  les  habitantes  soient  dignes  de  1'- 
habitation.     Quant  a  Ruth  elle  n'a  aucune  peur. 

Et  parlant  de  Ruth,  vous  ne  sauriez  croire  quels 
progres  elle  fait  en  fran^ais.  Sans  aucune  excep- 
tion, sans  aucune,  entendez  vous,  c'est  la  meilleure 
eleve  que  j'aie  jamais  eue. 

Tout  le  monde,  sans  en  excepter  le  pere  Caillet, 
se  porte  a  merveille.  Quant  a  moi,  helas!  j'ai 
perdu  I'elegance  de  ma  taille. 

Serait-ce  trop  vous  demander  si  je  vous  priais 
de  m'ecrire  avant  votre  retour?  Charite,  s'il  vous 
plait. 

Votre  affectione, 

A.  Chemidlin. 


[  103  ] 


LETTERS 


XXIII 

St.  Paul.  May  17,  1891. 


My  Beamiest  Clara: 


Charitable  as  you  are,  I  am  sure  that  you  will 
forgive  me  for  not  having  replied  to  you  sooner. 
At  least,  do  not  tliink  that  it  took  me  almost  two 
months  to  compose  a  letter  in  French.  No,  that 
is  not  my  excuse.  The  fact  is,  I  have  none,  unless 
it  is  my  inveterate  laziness.  Nevertheless,  it  gave 
me  great  pleasure  to  see  that  you  thought  a  httle 
of  your  old  friend,  and  I  should  have  thanked  you 
by  replying  at  once. 

During  Sam's  absence  1  have  passed  almost 
every  night  at  Mary's  house,  and  I  assure  you  that 
I  have  become  still  more  intimate  with  Mary 
Mendenhall,  if  that  were  possible.  She  is  pretty 
enough  to  eat,  chatters  like  a  magpie  (like  a  cer- 
tain aunt)  and  wants  her  own  way,  still  like  the 
same  aunt.  Some  days  ago,  at  breakfast,  she 
wanted  to  have  my  coffee.  Her  mother  said, 
"No."  Mademoiselle  pouted  and  said,  "Baby  go 
to  the  grocery  and  buy  coffee."  That  is  promis- 
ing. She  dances  like  a  fairy,  sings  like  a  lark,  and 
scolds  like  her  aunt.  You  remember  how  you 
have  the  habit  of  scolding  me  when  I  do  not  be- 
have well? 

I  am  delighted  that  you  wrote  to  me  in  French, 
and,  above  all,  that  you  did  it  without  grammar  or 

[   104  ] 


LETTERS 

dictionary,  which  is  proof  of  a  great  deal  of  cour- 
age. I  am  very  much  afraid,  if  reports  are  true, 
that  our  Charlotte  is  not  yet  as  ready  to  write  me 
in  the  language  I  love.  The  naughty  girl!  with 
her  accent,  which  is  better  than  yours  (don't  be 
displeased),  and  her  talents,  she  would  have  made 
an  admirable  scholar.  We  must  hope  that  this 
will  come  about.  It  would  be  easy  for  her  to  make 
up  for  lost  time. 

The  new  men-servants  from  England  amuse  the 
children  very  much  with  their  h's  added  and 
dropped.  One  of  them  asked  the  other  day 
whether  Miss  111  were  hill.  The  poor  fellow  meant 
to  say,  "Is  Miss  Hill  ill?" 

I  am  sure  that  on  your  return  the  house  will 
be  almost  finished ;  the  pictures  are  hung,  the  organ 
is  placed,  and  I  believe  there  is  nothing  but  the 
basement  to  finish.  They  are  giving  the  last 
touches  to  the  drawing  room  and  the  music  room. 
It  will  be  marvelous.  Become  pretty  quickly,  so 
that  the  inhabitants  may  be  worthy  of  the  habita- 
tion.     As  for  Ruth  she  need  have  no  fear. 

And  speaking  of  Ruth,  you  woidd  not  believe 
what  progress  she  makes  in  French.  Without 
any  exception,  without  any,  understand,  she  is  the 
best  pupil  that  I  have  ever  had. 

Everybody,  not  excepting  Father  Caillet,  is 
wonderfully  well.  As  for  me,  alas!  I  have  lost 
the  elegance  of  mj'^  figure. 

[   105  ] 


LETTERS 

Would  it  be  asking  too  much  if  I  begged  you  to 
write  before  your  return.     Charity,  please. 

Yours  affectionately, 

A.  Chemidlin. 

XXIV 

Vevey,  23  Aug.,  1S95. 

Miss  Elsie  Shawe, 
St.  Paul. 

Dear  Elsie: 

Many  thanks  for  your  kind  and  most  welcome 
letter  of  the  9th.  I  hope  that  you  are  all  having 
a  good  time  at  the  Lake.  The  precariousness  of 
Mr.  Prince's  condition  has  saddened  both  Mr. 
Chemidlin  and  myself  very  much,  for  I  had  hoped 
from  news  I  had  received  that  he  was  rather  better. 
Please  give  him  my  most  affectionate  regards  and 
those  of  Mr,  Chemidlin,  and  extend  the  same  to 
all  the  members  of  the  family. 

As  for  us,  we  have  been  blessed  in  a  very  special 
manner.  The  treatment  at  Vichy  was  successful 
with  both  of  us;  and  the  good  results  seem  to  im- 
prove instead  of  diminishing  as  time  passes  on. 
We  are  taking  the  remedies  ordered  by  the  Vichy 
doctor.  This  course  may  last  for  some  three  weeks 
yet.  After  this  we  shall  turn  toward  home,  and 
then  follow  Dr.  Smith's  advice,  if  he  has  any  to 
give.     I  wish,  dear  Elsie,  that  you  could  be  here 

[   106  ] 


MOXSIGXOR  LOUIS  CAIIJ.ET,  ABOUT  1893 


LETTERS 

with  us  and  enjoy  the  beautiful  scenery  spread 
before  us.  We  are  on  the  shores  of  Lake  Geneva. 
In  front  of  us  we  have  a  massif  of  high  mountains 
— to  our  left,  still  higher,  the  beginning  of  snow; 
back  of  us  we  have  most  beautiful  hills  which  at 
home  we  would  call  mountains.  These  are  all 
planted  with  grape  vines  and  fruit  trees,  and  inter- 
spersed with  villages  and  hamlets.  I  wish  you 
could  behold  on  those  mountains  the  effects  of 
light  at  simrise  and  sunset.  You  would  surely 
think  that  you  had  never  even  dreamt  of  such  pos- 
sibilities. Next  Monday  we  are  going  on  an  ex- 
cursion to  Chamounix,  near  the  "Mer-de-Glace." 
This  will  take  us  three  days,  and  after  a  little  rest 
I  intend  to  direct  my  way  to  Rotterdam,  where  I 
shall  see  the  Beaupre's. 

I  am  beginning  to  feel  lonesome  and  wish  for 
home.  A  life  among  strangers  would  not  fill  my 
wants,  no  matter  how  beautiful  the  surroundings. 

Now  with  much  love  to  all  at  home  and  to  Mary 
and  Mr.  Smith,  I  remain  very  sincerely,  your 
friend, 

L.  Caillet. 


[  107  ] 


LETTERS 

XXV 

Vevey,  31  August,  1895. 

Mrs.  James  J.  Hill, 

Summit  Ave.,  St.  Paul. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hill: 

Your  very  kind  letter  followed  us  to  Vevey. 
We  selected  this  spot  as  a  charming  one  for  rest, 
and  convenient  for  excursions  to  beautiful  sights. 
We  made  one  to  Chamounix  at  the  very  foot  of 
the  Mont  Blanc.  I  was  satisfied  to  go  to  its  sum- 
mit through  the  means  of  a  powerful  telescope, 
which  enables  us  to  behold  its  grandeur  and  dan- 
gers of  ascent  in  a  very  safe  and  comfortable  man- 
ner. 

I  did  one  foolish  thing.  I  climbed  the  mountain 
on  foot  as  far  as  the  crossing  of  the  glacier  of  the 
Grands  Bossons,  and  did  cross  the  glacier  and 
went  to  see  the  grotto  under  the  glacier.  It  was 
foolish  for  an  old  man,  but  the  way  it  happened 
was  this:  the  man  who  had  come  with  me,  I  un- 
derstood, knew  well  the  places  around,  but  when 
we  crossed  the  glacier  and  had  come  to  about  the 
middle  of  it,  he  told  me  he  had  to  go  back  as  his 
head  was  getting  dizzy.  At  first,  I  did  not  believe 
him,  and  continued  my  way,  till,  when  looking  back, 
I  saw  him  far  away  to  the  other  side.  As  I  did  not 
know  one  way  better  than  the  other,  I  kept  on,  and 
descended  safely  the  ice  steps,  down  the  bank  on 

[  108  ] 


LETTERS 

the  other  side,  although  there  was  nothing  to  keep 
one  in  case  of  sHpping;  went  to  see  the  grotto  and 
made  my  way  back  by  a  far  better  road  on  the 
other  side  of  the  ghicier.  In  the  afternoon,  Mr. 
Chemidhn  wished  to  go  to  see  a  cascade  some  1500 
feet  high.  I  told  him  the  game  was  not  worth  the 
candle,  but  he  accused  me  of  not  being  a  lover  of 
nature,  etc..  so  I  went,  and  he  has  been  sick  ever 
since.  On  the  day  we  arrived  at  Chamounix,  two 
guides  and  a  young  gentleman  from  Austria  had 
perished  in  crossing  to  the  summit.  So  the  tele- 
scope is  the  best  way.  Mr.  Chen^idlin,  I  am  sorry 
to  say,  is  not  well;  he  cannot  endure  fatigue,  and, 
although  ambitious,  I  will  not  let  him  have  his  way 
to  go  farther  in  Switzerland.  We  will  leave  here 
next  week  for  Basle  and  Strasbourg,  and  while  I 
go  to  see  the  Beaupre's  for  a  couple  of  days  he  will 
go  to  his  native  place  and  to  Paris.  There  he  will 
wait  for  me,  and  we  may  be  able  to  leave  Havre  on 
the  Champagne  on  the  14th  Sept.  All  this  must 
lead  vou  to  the  conclusion  that  I  am  verv  well  and 
that  something  has  done  much  good.  I  continue 
the  remedies  the  Vichy  doctor  gave  me,  and  hope 
they  will  complete  the  cure. 

Please  give  my  kindest  regards  to  Mr.  Hill  and 
the  entire  family,  without  forgetting  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Samuel  Hill  and  the  children.     I  remain 

Very  sincerely  yours, 

L.  Caillet. 

Mr.  Chemidlin  sends  his  best  regards  to  all. 

[  109  ] 


LETTERS 

XXVI 

Vichy,  11   Auffust,  1896. 

Miss  Shawe, 
St.  Paul. 

Dear  Elsie: 

Your  kind  and  most  interesting  letter  came  yes- 
terday, and,  notwithstanding  its  kindness,  I  feel 
bound  to  find  fault  with  you  for  not  having  availed 
yourself  of  Grace's  invitation.  You  need  a  rest, 
and  that  was  the  very  kind  of  rest  which  would  have 
done  you  good  and  which  you  would  have  enjoyed. 
Alas,  some  people  do  not  realize  what  is  good  for 
them !  I  am  sorrj^  to  see  that  you  are  of  that  num- 
ber. As  for  myself,  I  am  very  well  and  have  every 
reason  to  hope  that  my  season  will  result  in  a  lasting 
good.  I  cannot  say  the  same  for  the  pleasure,  for 
my  season  has  been  without  almost  any  interrup- 
tion a  season  of  rain  and  rather  cool  weather.  I 
would  almost  say  cold,  if  I  dared  to  charge  la  belle 
France  with  that  crime  in  July  and  August.  Any- 
way, my  overcoat  and  rubbers  have  done  much  good 
service. 

There  is  one  thing  I  have  realized  and  that 
is  how  hard  a  work  the  work  of  killing  time  is.  I 
do  not  know  but  it  is  easier  to  let  time  kill  you.  No 
danger  of  protracting  my  visit  to  France;  better 
twenty  and  more  degrees  below  and  something  to 
do  and  a  few  friends  to  talk  with  than  even  summer 

[   110  ] 


LETTERS 

weather,  etc.,  all  you  can  imagine  in  fact,  and  have 
only  to  invent  every  day  something  to  kill  time. 
What  if  you  have  only  rain  and  mud !  I  intend  to 
take  the  very  first  steamer  within  reach  where  I 
can  find  a  berth  and  go  home.  This  may  not  be  as 
soon  as  I  wish,  as  it  is  the  time  when  steamers  are 
crowded.  1  will  then  spend  some  days  in  Paris, 
where  there  is  more  to  entertain  a  stranger  than  at 
Vichv. 

ft- 

1  am  very  glad  to  hear  that  Mother  is  feeling 
better  and  hope  she  will  be  prepared  for  the  winter 
so  as  to  pass  it  more  comfortably  than  the  last.  And 
Stella,  how  is  she?  I  hope,  as  usual,  busy  and  cheer- 
ful. I  received  a  letter  from  Mr.  Smith  which  I 
have  enjoyed  very  much.  I  intend  to  reply  to  it 
very  soon.  Tell  him  that  I  intend  to  vote  in  order 
to  offset  Fr.  Gibbon's  vote.  I  will  vote  for  Mc- 
Kinley  and  honest  money.  If  you  see  the  Mc- 
Quillans tell  them  to  prepare  for  the  worst  scolding 
of  their  Hfe,  unless  I  relent  as  I  get  near  home, 
which  I  fear  may  be  the  case. 

Now,  dear  Elsie,  take  care  of  yourself  and  do 
not  forget  that  lost  health  is  the  hardest  thing  to 
find  again.  It  is  much  easier  to  husband  it  and 
keep  it  than  to  lose  it  and  go  after  it,  even  if  one 
can  go. 

Now,  give  my  kind  regards  to  your  Mother,  Stel- 
la, Marv  and  her  husband,  in  fact,  the  whole  family 

[  111  ] 


LETTERS 

without  forgetting  Frs.   Gibbons  and  Shea,  and 
Uncle,  and  believe  me, 
Ever  your  old  and  affectionate  friend, 

L.  E.  Caillet. 

XXVII 

Lyons,  16  August,  1896. 

Mrs.  Hill, 
St.  Paul. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hill: 

I  returned  to  Lyons  on  Friday  after  twenty- 
four  days  spent  in  Vichy.  I  cannot  think  of  any 
pleasure  at  that  place,  as  it  rained  every  day  with 
the  exception  of  three  or  four,  and  I  cannot  think 
of  anything  more  dismal  than  a  watering-place  in 
rainy  weather.  The  Doctor  is  entirely  satisfied 
with  the  results  and  assures  me  that  there  are  years' 
work  yet  in  me,  provided  I  keep  from  worrying. 
This  I  will  try  to  do,  and  hope  to  be  helped  in  that 
by  those  I  may  work  with.  Of  course,  he  could 
not  say  anything  more  gratifying  than  that  there 
would  be  no  need  of  extraordinary  care  of  my 
health,  for  I  believe  truly  that  such  life  is  hardly 
worth  living.  I  hear  a  good  deal  about  the  politi- 
cal condition  at  home.  While  it  is  far  from  being 
reassuring,  I  hope  that  the  election  will  turn  out 
all  right,  and  that  the  question  in  November  will 
not  be  one  of  this  or  that  political  party,  but  one 

[   "2   ] 


LETTERS 

of  the  country  itself;  and  that  God  will  guide  our 
people  as  He  has  before,  and  that  private  interest 
will  yield  to  what  is  for  the  general  good;  I  mean, 
public  honesty. 

I  am  writing  to  you  from  the  very  house  where 
I  began  under  a  true  man  of  God  to  study  for  the 
priesthood.  This  morning  I  visited  the  garden  and 
thought  of  all  the  places  I  used  to  go  with  my  much 
regretted  friend,  Father  Tissot.  Our  games,  our 
talks,  all  came  back. 

I  am  very  happy  to  have  been  invited  to  spend 
some  days  here  where  I  can  have  perfect  rest,  be- 
cause a  happy  rest.  I  celebrated  yesterday  in  the 
dear  old  chapel  the  thirty-ninth  anniversary  of  my 
first  Mass,  and  I  assure  you  that  it  was  a  great 
consolation;  neither  did  I  forget  you  nor  Mr.  Hill 
nor  any  of  your  family.  In  fact,  I  never  do  omit 
to  pray  for  you  even  a  single  day,  as  this  is  the  only 
and  best  way  I  have  to  do  something  in  return  for 
all  the  kindness  you  have  always  done  for  me.  I 
do  more  of  this  when  I  am  free  from  care  than  at 
other  times,  because  I  have  more  time  and  think 
more  frequently  of  you  all.  I  hope  that  you  will 
do  as  you  propose,  go  to  the  seashore  and  inhale 
some  of  that  most  healthful  salt  air  which  I  like  so 
much  and  which  agrees  so  well  with  me.  You  tell 
me  about  the  Archbishop  and  say  that  I  am  missed. 
It  is  very  gratifying  to  me,  and  I  may  well  assure 
you  that  my  greatest  comfort  is  to  think  that  I  may 

[   113  ] 


LETTERS 

be  able  to  be  of  some  use  to  those  who  are  so  kind 
as  to  think  something  of  me. 

I  have  received  three  letters  from  Rotterdam 
urging  me  to  make  a  visit  there,  but  I  do  not  well 
see  how  I  could  accept,  as  it  is  a  long  journey  and 
out  of  my  way.  I  feel  very  sorry,  for  I  would  like 
to  see  Mrs.  Beaupre.  I  am  very  glad  to  learn  that 
Mrs.  McQuillan's  house  is  under  way  and  hope 
that  it  will  be  well  advanced  when  I  return,  for  I 
think  that  a  pleasant  home  will  add  much  happi- 
ness to  her  life. 

I  remain  very  sincerely  yours, 

L.  E.  Caillet. 

XXVIII 

The  8t.  Paul  Seminary, 
St.  Paul,  Minn.,  20  October.  1896. 

Mrs.  Hill, 
New  York. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hill: 

I  thank  you  very  much  for  the  kind  letter  which 
I  received  yesterday  informing  me  of  the  improve- 
ment in  Rachel's  condition.  Already  I  had  heard 
of  her  being  not  worse,  and  this,  to  my  mind,  was 
already  a  good  and  hopeful  sign ;  now,  I  trust  that 
she  will  get  better  rapidly.  This  morning  I  offer- 
ed again  the  Holy  Sacrifice  for  her  prompt  re- 
covery, and  feel  sure  that  prayer,   sustained  by 

[  114  ] 


LETTERS 

your  presence  and  yoiu*  vigilance,  will  soon  bring 
our  dear  Rachel  all  right.  Yes,  I  believe  that  your 
presence  had  a  very  good  moral  effect  on  Rachel, 
and  that  this  itself  has  helped  her  very  much. 
Everything  is  going  on  here  as  usual,  and  notwith- 
standing that  people  are  preparing  for  the  election, 
the  missions  have  opened  very  well,  both  at  St. 
Mary's  and  at  the  Cathedral.  Both  churches  were 
packed  last  Sunday  night. 

Although  I  cannot  say  that  I  like  Seminary  life, 
I  feel  much  better  contented  under  the  altered  cir- 
cumstances than  I  did  last  year.  Father  Heffron 
seems  to  take  an  earnest  interest  in  his  new  work 
and  do  it  in  an  intelligent  manner.  The  rest  of 
the  faculty  are  working  well  and  are  in  very  good 
spirits.  The  Archbishop  is  away  East  and  I  sup- 
pose has  his  hands  full.  There  has  been  an  acces- 
sion in  the  home  of  Mary  Smith.  A  little  boy  has 
been  born  there,  to  the  great  satisfaction  of  both 
father  and  mother.  The  JNIcQuillans  are  all  well, 
waiting  for  the  completion  of  the  new  house  to 
move  into  it.  Mrs.  Hardenbergh  has  returned  and 
may  be  with  us  for  a  little  while.  How  happy  one 
is  to  rest  contented  at  home,  unless  duty  or  neces- 
sity compels  him  to  go  away  from  it!  We  are  ex- 
pecting Grace*  next  week,  and  the  family  already 
enjoy  her  coming  by  anticipation.  I  expect  to  go 
to  see  Mr.  Hill  and  the  family  some  day  this  week 

*Mrs.   Louis   Chemidlin,   formerly   Grace   Prince. 

[   115  ] 


LETTERS 

and  hope  I  will  find  more  good  news  of  dear  Rach- 
el. Tell  her  that  she  is  not  forgotten  in  prayer, 
and  that  God  will  help  her  out  of  her  trouble,  and 
that  she  will  soon  be  well. 

Please  give  my  kind  regards  also  to  Ruth  and 
Charlotte,  and  believe  me 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

L.  E.  Caillet. 

XXIX 

Saint  Paul,  Dec.  2,  J 897. 

Mrs.  James  J.  Hill, 
New  York  City. 

My  Dear  Mrs.  Hill: 

I  am  most  grateful  to  you  for  writing  to  me.  I 
did  not  expect  he  would  leave  us  so  soon,  and  I  al- 
ways hoped  that  he  would  bury  me.  He  was  more 
than  a  brother  to  me.  For  forty  years  we  were 
intimate  friends.  When  together,  we  both  thought 
aloud  and  with  the  exception  of  what  pertained  to 
his  profession,  of  what  referred  to  others,  he  had 
nothing  concealed  from  me ;  and  as  for  me,  he  knew 
me  better  than  I  knew  myself.  He  was  a  strong 
man  and  I  am  a  weak  one,  and  I  leaned  on  him. 
His  loss  is  very  hard  to  bear  at  my  age.  And  your 
loss  is  as  great  as  mine.*     He  could  hardly  have 

•Father  Caillet  prepared  Mrs.  Hill  for  her  First  Communion 
and  was  her  particular  friend   and  counselor. 

[   116  ] 


C^.-^'X^^-'^  -^^^f^l-^O^  /P^^-t^ii.*-.*^ 


LETTERS 

loved  you  any  better  if  you  had  been  his  daughter, 
and  he  had  an  equal  affection  for  Mr.  Hill  and  the 
children.     It  is  very  hard. 

I  was  with  him  to  tlie  last  moment.  From  the 
verv  moment  of  the  attack,  he  lost  all  consciousness 
and  did  not  suffer.  Nothing  but  his  breathing, 
which  grew  faster  and  weaker,  indicated  that  the 
end  was  approaching,  and  he  passed  softly  away. 

I  am  very  happy  to  hear  that  Louis  has  borne 
that  operation  so  well.  I  hope  that  soon  you  will 
all  be  back. 

Please  give  my  love  to  Louis  and  to  the  girls. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

A.  Chemidlin. 

XXX 

Brooklyn,  May  24-99. 

Mrs.  James  J.  Hill, 
St.  Paul. 

Dear  Mrs.  Hill  : 

You  must  think  that  I  have  been  very  rude  in 
not  answering  your  kind  letter  written  so  long  ago. 
But  I  hope  you  will  excuse  me,  for  until  a  few  days 
ago  I  have  been  unable  to  write.  The  day  after  I 
called  upon  you  1  had  a  relapse  of  my  lumbago. 
I  could  not  leave  my  bed  for  weeks.  I  am  told 
that  warm  salt-water  baths  will  do  me  much  good, 
and  as  next  Saturday  we  go  to  Far-Rockaway,  I 

[  117  ] 


LETTERS 

will  try  the  cure,  and,  if  after  a  couple  of  weeks  I 
find  no  improvement,  I  shall  start  for  Saint  Paul. 
As  it  is  abominably  cold  for  the  season,  the  sea- 
shore will  not  be  very  enjoj^able,  I  am  afraid.  How 
I  could  have  reached  the  age  of  seventy-four  with 
all  I  have  suffered  in  my  life,  I  cannot  imagine. 
Excuse  me  for  speaking  so  much  of  myself.  You 
know  old  people  and  patients  love  to  speak  of 
themselves. 

I  was  shocked  at  hearing  of  that  accident  on 
your  return  home.  Providence  was  good  to  you 
and  your  family.  It  reminds  me  that  before  set- 
ting out  on  a  journey,  one  had  better  put  things 
in  order  for  the  life  to  come;  so  your  great  danger 
will  be  of  some  benefit  to  me. 

Day  before  yesterday,  feeling  pretty  well,  I  took 
the  cars  for  a  stroll  on  Fifth  Avenue,  for,  having 
not  a  bit  of  envy  in  my  composition,  I  like  to  see 
the  enjoyment  that  wealth  procures. 

As  I  was  strolling  slowly,  admiring  the  beautiful 
horses  (and  maybe  the  young  occupants  of  the  car- 
riages), I  heard  a  "How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Chemid- 
lin?"  coming  out  of  a  procession  of  girls.  I  turned' 
and  saw  first,  Rachel,  all  smiles,  and  then  Gertrude. 
It  was  but  a  short  vision.  I  just  had  time  to  take 
my  hat  off,  bow  profoundly,  and  the  vision  had 
disappeared. 

Please  remember  me  to  all. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

A.  Chemidlin. 

[   118  ] 


LETTERS 

XXXI 

Far-Rockaway,  June  21,  1899. 


My  Dear  Mrs.  Hill, 

After  traveling  around,  or  more  likely  lying  hid- 
den in  a  corner  of  our  excellent  postoffice,  your 
kind  letter  of  June  4th  has  at  last  reached  me.  I 
had  received  a  few  vi^eeks  before  a  package  from 
one  of  the  girls.  It  was  the  "Figaro"  with  the  his- 
tory of  the  Paris  Exposition  and  a  few  interesting 
engravings  of  some  of  the  buildings.  As  I  am  not 
going  home  as  soon  as  I  expected,  I  send  them  to 
you.  They  will  give  you  a  limited  idea  of  what 
you  will  see  next  year.  If  the  French  are  the  worst 
politicians  of  the  world,  they  make  it  up  by  being 
the  most  artistic ;  a  small  compensation  in  this  utili- 
tarian age. 

At  last  my  health  is  improving  fast.  It  was  the 
worst  and  longest  attack  of  lumbago  I  ever  had. 
It  broke  me  completely  down,  both  in  body  and 
spirit,  but  since  my  coming  to  the  seashore  I  have 
improved  wonderfully.  I  harve  only  been  here  one 
month,  and  I  am  a  new  man.  I  had  intended  to 
start  on  the  first  of  July,  but  the  doctor  says  I  must 
remain  here  another  month  to  rebuild  me  complete- 
ly. Although  I  long  to  see  St.  Paul  very  much,  I 
will  take  the  medicine,  which  is  not  very  bitter  after 
all,  for  the  place  is  beautiful  and  delightful.  Only 
I  am  forbidden  bathing  in  cold  water.     All  do  it; 

[   119  ] 


LETTERS 

even  Grace's  little  girl,  who  is  only  two  and  a  half 
years  old,  rushes  into  the  waves  like  a  duckling. 
Even  her  nine  months'  old  boy  has  his  bathing  suit 
and  enjoys  the  water  as  much  as  the  best  of  them. 

I  am  very  glad  to  hear  that  you  are  all  so  well. 
Sometime  ago  I  received  a  letter  from  Clara  in 
which  she  writes  that  Mary  is  enjoying  her  time 
very  much.  I  wish  we  had  an  Aix-les-Bains  here. 
I  hope  she  will  let  me  know  the  time  of  her  return. 
I  would  like  so  much  to  meet  them  at  the  wharf. 

Walter  must  be  very  happy  to  get  his  vacation 
at  last.  I  do  not  know  if  many  boys  would  have 
had  the  will  to  stand  the  lonesomeness  of  the  place. 
I  would  have  run  away. 

I  will  talk  nothing  but  French  to  Mary  and 
James  when  I  return  to  St.  Paul. 

Please  remember  me  to  Mr.  Hill  and  all  the 
family. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 
A.  Chemidlin. 


[  120  ] 


PRESS  OF 

McGILL-WARNERCO, 

ST.  PAUL.  MINN. 

U.S.A. 


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